Fruition Of Lies
by Disco-Wing
Summary: Having escaped the Court Of Owls, Talon, runs to Bludhaven. To keep his past hidden and atone for his sins, he becomes Nightwing. Of course this doesn't go unnoticed by the Justice League, as they try to discover who this new hero is. Sadly, the shadows always carry secrets, and sometimes they're better off left alone. Can Nightwing keep his past a secret from the Justice League?
1. Where It All Begain

Late at night, after all the shows had finished and shadows swallowed the world, a woman could be seen in the center of the circus ring. In the dim lighting, a broom could be seen in her hand. She was cleaning up the confetti from their last performance. She was twirling ever so slightly as she swept, dancing to the music of her own creation. A man approached her from the rear, making wild gestures with his hands and shouting loudly, shocking the woman out of her solo.

Even with the wildness of the man, the woman didn't seem to be afraid. She dropped the broom and stepped forward, grabbing the man's hand out of a frantic wave. She whispered something to him and the man seemed to calm at her words, bowing his head. Perhaps they're friends, or maybe they're dating?

It wasn't long before they both began to whisper, glancing at the creeping shadows of the looming tent. Their eyes kept darting around, looking for any sign that said they were not alone. Believing they were, they took each other's hands and walked calmly out of the tent. As they passed a spotlight, the glint of a ring on the woman's hand made itself known. It wasn't an expensive ring. A simple gold band on a long, slender finger. So, they were married, then?

They walked through a maze of trailer cars, making their way towards their own. As they approached, a young boy ran out of the car, heading straight for the two adults. Perhaps it's their son? The glow of light from a nearby window revealed his features. He looked to be about six, with dark ebony hair. His eyes were a striking blue that seemed to gleam in the pale lighting. As if it had been kissed by the sun, his skin, shone with a healthy olive glow. His smile was unparalleled, reaching the corner of his eyes. It was like a snow rabbit in the Sahara. Rare.

The man and the woman smiled brightly when the young boy crashed into their legs, bringing a throaty laugh from the man. The woman joined moments later with her bell-like one. The young boy cartwheeled towards the door, followed closely by his parents. The woman, however, stayed behind as her boys entered. After the door was closed, her smile dropped, a deep frown taking its place. She glanced at the shadows behind her and made a few quick gestures with her hands. Seconds later, a man emerged from the shadows holding a simple black case.

Startled at the man's attire, she stepped back, nervous, and brought her hand to her hip, looking for the blade that was no longer there. The man in front of her was wearing a black skin tight suit, with knives displayed across his chest. His mask, although hard to tell, appeared to be the face of an owl.

With the briefcase in hand, the masked man inched closer to the woman. As he walked, the soft clang of weapons mingling with each other echoed around the silent area. With the man fully out of the shadows, the woman noticed the handle of a katana thrown over the man's back. She quickly calmed herself -the man was not here to kill her. She had business to take care of. She stepped forward, stopping only a few feet from the man, and gestured towards the briefcase while speaking.

He lifted it up, opened it, and showed the woman. At that moment, her face contorted into a sadistic grin as she peered at the contents of the case. What was in there that could create such a smile? The man spoke to the woman, holding up three fingers. The woman nodded, a grim expression crossed her face as she took the case. Saying one more thing, she watched the man creep back into the shadows before she turned, heading back to her trailer car. It appears that whatever the woman had been planning was successful.

She hid the case behind the car tire whilst putting on a fake smile, entering her house for the night.

A few feet away on top of the neighboring car, the man smiled behind his mask. The Gray Son would soon be his.

* * *

 **So** , **I went back and edited this chapter a bit. It had been bugging me for a while. Nothing is too different though, so don't worry too much.**

 **If you are new to this story, then welcome to the updated version. Please leave comments. I love to hear what you think!**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	2. Who Are You?

Dick was running out of supplies. He took a drag from his cigarette as he navigated through the Bludhaven streets. Is was a nasty habit, he knew, but it was the only thing that helped when he got overwhelmed.

Dick didn't really plan to escape the Court, but after he had failed to kill his target, well...He fled. They were going to freeze him. That's what happens when you fail, as the Court does not tolerate failure. Honestly, he'd rather die than be frozen again. You can't move at all, but your mind is fully conscious, trapped inside your body. All you can do is stare and try to count how long it's been. Days? Hours? Years? He never knew. They only ever took him out when it was relevant. He was their tool and if the tool broke, they'd "fix" it.

Broken...that sounded about right.

Dick felt empty...guilty. He was nothing now. He'd lost his purpose.

All the people he'd killed, the lives he'd ruined... ** _murderer_**...

Dick hesitated in his step and took a quick glance around. Nobody seemed to notice or was at least aware of his pause.

He knew he shouldn't blame himself, he was under the control of the Court. He was forced to do those things. It wasn't his fault, He was just trying to survive... ** _guilty_**...

Trying not to delve into this now, he looked down and let his feet guide him once again. It didn't really matter where he went. As long as he stopped thinking.

It's not like he enjoyed it...right?... _ **monster**_...

With a sigh, he sat down at a park bench. He hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking. He was just wandering the streets, no real destination in mind. Thankfully, it was around 6 pm, so not many people were there. 'Good,' he thought, 'At least they won't be tortured by the sight of my skin...or eyes.'

He remembered what happened the last time someone saw his eyes. He shuddered at the memory... ** _freak_**...

He didn't really go out in public anymore, mostly because of the modifications the Court did to his eyes. Plus, the sun really hurt them with their night-sensitivity and all, so now he had to wear sunglasses everywhere. Wonderful.

Dick sat there for a few hours, finally deciding it was time to go. He needed to be back at the warehouse before 9 pm.

* * *

Back at the warehouse-his temporary home- Dick changed out of his day clothes and into his costume. It wasn't much, just another version of his Talon outfit. It just had fewer weapons. Slipping into the black body-suit, he reached out and grabbed his mask off the couch. He decided to trade in his owl mask for something simpler, one that covered the eyes and a bit of cheek. Not that anyone would find out his identity if he didn't wear one. He had been 'dead' for ten years now. Well, at least according to the police.

Dick still hadn't decided on a name. He wasn't Talon anymore, and he's not a 'good guy' either. Nothing like those 'heroes' in the news. Dick snorted softly. 'Self-sacrificing idiots,' he thought.

His name could wait though, it wasn't important until people started to notice he actually existed. Right now, they thought he was a myth. Jokes on them though, he supposed.

Dick scurried around his 'living space,' looking for the mirror. He wanted to make sure his eyes and veins were hidden. He _really_ didn't want to have that conversation with anyone right now. Actually, he didn't ever want to have that conversation.

Finding the mirror leaning up against the wall, he quickly glanced over himself, making sure everything was in order before slipping out the broken window.

* * *

The night air felt cool on his skin as he jumped across the rooftops. He didn't know what he would do tonight, but as long as he was useful to someone, somewhere, and could make them breathe in relief because they're safe...that would be enough. This vigilante-saving-people-thing had become some kind of redemption for him. Running around and saving people instead of killing them; it was almost therapeutic.

Halfway through his route he heard a scream and ran to the closest roof to investigate. Dropping silently onto the fire escape, he saw a man -most likely drunk- pointing a knife at a woman. Climbing up and over the railing, he dropped down behind the man. The man didn't notice as he continued to stalk closer to the woman, snarling.

Dick quickly ran up behind him and wrapped his arm behind around the man's throat, choking him. The man, surprised, began to flail at the loss of air and stabbed the knife into Dick's side. Dick didn't flinch and dropped the man onto the cold pavement where he finally succumbed to the darkness.

Dick left the knife in his side, not wanting to bleed all over the place in front of the lady. He approached the woman, giving a thumbs up and down while pointing at her. The woman snapped out of her daze and thanked Dick multiple times, tears of relief gathering at the corner of her eyes. Dick felt happiness wash over him for a moment. Just like he'd wanted. But then she asked a question he couldn't answer with gestures alone. A question he didn't have an answer for at all.

"Who are you?"

* * *

 **Went back and edited this as well. All fresh and neat for y'all.**

 **Let me know what you think in the comments below.**

 **til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	3. Nobody Important

"Who are you?"

His body goes rigid at the question. _'Who am I?'_ he thought. _'Who am...I?'_

* * *

~flashback~

Deep underground, beneath the sewers of Gotham, a cry can be heard echoing off the stone walls. If someone were to follow the cry, they would discover a young boy curled into the fetal position deep within the bunkers. The young boy shivers as he lays upon the damp, mossy floor.

If you were to listen, you would be able to hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Sadly, the young boy's cries are too loud, and the footsteps remain unnoticed. The child's cries start to soften as he sees a man approach. Was he here to help? Was he here to rescue him? Perhaps the figure was Batman? The boy faintly remembers the story his mother told him, about how Batman will always save you, no matter what. The boy's eyes filled with hope as the figure gets closer. If someone had been watching the boy's eyes, they would have seen hope shatter, and bright blue eyes dim once more. For the figure that came was not Batman-no, it was his grandfather. His teacher. His handler. His _master._

The blue-eyed boy swiftly stood and watched his teacher in dreading fear. He had been caught crying. Talons do not cry. Talons are tools and tools show no emotion. The child's teacher stopped in front of him and watched him with cold eyes as he looked down. Eyes that were cruel, calculating, lifeless. The man thrust his hand forward and grabbed the boy's neck, pinning him to the wall. The boy instinctively reached to pry the hand away but to no avail. He would remain gasping and choking for breath until his teacher was satisfied. With his voice devoid of emotion, his teacher began to speak.

"Boy, do you know what you're training to be?"

Nodding, the child choked out, "A talon, Master."

"Wrong," his teacher replied, tightening his grip on the boy's throat. "You're not training to be _a Talon,_ you're training to be _the Talon._ The Gray Son of Gotham. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded again and the grip around his throat loosened a bit. His teacher began to speak again.

"Once you complete your training, you will be the Gray Son of Gotham. That means you will be _our most important asset._ A tool that does not fail. The _most important Talon._ If you do happen to fail, you will be punished for more severely than the others. The Court would need to set an example after all, to make sure the others don't fail." he spoke smoothly while releasing his grip on the boy's throat.

Collapsing, the child began to cough and sputter as he struggled to regain the much-needed air. His teacher, however, was not finished as he began to walk away from the boy as he spoke:

"It would be wise to rid yourself of emotion now, rather than face what the court has planned later, should you disobey. Remember, you're important and the Court wants you. And the Court never fails to get what it wants."

The boy watched his grandfather's back as it faded into the dark new tears forming in his eyes. They did not fall however, now that he knew what would happen if they did. Had his mother lied, was Batman really going to save him? It's been a year. That's plenty of time, right? He should be coming soon...right? _Right?_

His back slid along the wall as he sat down, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs. The boy sat in there in the dark, listening, waiting... _hoping_ for _something, someone._ But all he got in return was unanswered silence.

* * *

Snapping out of the memory, Dick gave the woman an apologetic wave. She'd seen him zone out from the question and appeared to be unnerved by the silence.

"Who are you?" She repeated again, slightly louder than the first time. "Are you okay?"

Dick fished through one of his pouches for a pen and paper. Upon discovering the items, he scribbled a response and handed it to the woman. Putting the items away, Dick scaled the fire escape, turned and gave the woman a thumbs up before making his trek back to the warehouse. He had a knife wound to take care of after all.

* * *

The woman, abandoned in the alleyway, read the crumbled up paper in her hand.

 _"Nobody Important"_

 _'Huh,"_ she thought. Looking up at the night sky, she thought once more: _'We'll see about that...we'll see.'_

* * *

 **Wow! A new chapter! Sorry, it's so late. I took my SAT on Saturday, got my braces off on Monday, and my older sister had he baby on Tuesday. And to top it all off, I ended up getting sick Wednesday thru Saturday. Now, you're all probably thinking "this can't get any worse right?" WRONG! Now, this week I have a bunch of SOL's and final exams to take. Gah! I'm currently a Junior in high school for those wondering.**

 **Yikes. So I wasn't able to write or post. But I am now. Haha!**

 **in case anybody was wondering, Dick was sold to the court when he was 6. He is currently 17 in this story. He escaped the court when he was a few months shy of 17. I'll explain some more in later chapters. And what do you guys think of him meeting Jason (Red Hood) before any other heroes? Let me know!**

 **Like always, Read and Review! Tell me what you think! I want to know how to make this story better.**

 **Sorry, this chapter was mostly flashback. It was necessary thou.**

 **-Rachel**


	4. Enemies To Allies

'hey what's up' - This is thinking

"hey what's up" - This is speaking

* * *

Eyes...people say there the window to one's soul. Dick hated his eyes. They weren't the familiar blue from his childhood anymore. His left eye was now a golden yellow, and his right was a dull blue. Every time he looked in the mirror, they were there. The eyes. Always reminding him of what he is...was...

Dick sighed as he sat down on his beat-up couch. He'd been planning to go out tonight but...that might not happen anymore. His new suit was complete, he just couldn't think of a name.

'Just gonna have to wing it! Wait,' he thought, 'If I go out at night, and basically _wing_ everything...' he stood up and began pacing, 'How about _Wingnight!?'_ he exclaimed, finger shooting into the air.

Dick stopped pacing and stood for a moment. 'Nope, no, nope. That's bad, like, real bad.'

Dick sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing again. 'It can't be Wingnight. It has to be something clever, something that people can love, but also fear. Something like... _Nightwing.'_ A smile crept across Dick's face.

Looks like he's going out after all.

* * *

Jason's day was running smoothly. Well, it _had_ been running smoothly until one of his men called saying they were having trouble on a job.

Grumbling to himself, he grabbed his helmet and keys before heading outside to his motorcycle. His men were in a warehouse down by the docks. They were _supposed_ to make a deal with some of Blockbuster's guys and get a few of his buildings. Jason sighed, turning on his bike. The ride shouldn't be more than 10 minutes.

* * *

Nightwing was making his way towards the docks.

He'd gotten...beaten...some information out of a thug about a deal going down. He was still new to Bludhaven, so the gangs were still unfamiliar, but the thug had said something about a Red Hood. Was that the gang's name or was it the boss? Or both?

Well, he'd figure it out one way or another. Right now, he needed to get to the right building.

As he approached the building he slowed down, not wanting to be spotted by any lookouts.

Nightwing surveyed the warehouse from the opposing roof. There were four men guarding the front entrance, each of them had an automatic rifle -and what looked to be a grenade. He wasn't positive though, knives were more his thing. There was one man walking along the side of the building.

'Using my great detective skills, I am able to deduce that there is also a man on the other side as well.' He quietly snickered at his sarcasm.

Taking out his grappling line, he stood and shot it towards the roof of the warehouse. Only a soft 'pat' could be heard as he landed. Nightwing waited a few moments, making sure even the soft noise wasn't heard before creeping towards the skylight.

'What is it with Bludhaven having skylights in all their building? Honestly, it's ridiculous. They're just asking for someone to break in,' he thought.

When he looked through the glass he saw about ten men in the room. Six of them had a patch with two B's on them. 'What does that stand for? Bad Boys?' he quipped mentally. Focusing on the remaining four, he saw that they each had a red helmet, with two AK's crossing each other on the back of their jackets.

'Huh, I think those _might_ be the Red Hood guys. Ya'know, just guessing.' Each of the men in the room had some kind of weapon, whether it be a gun or knife, they were all armed. 'This may be slightly difficult, just a bit. Nothing I can't handle though.'

Right when he was about to make his dramatic entrance -crashing through the skylight- a guy on a motorcycle burst through the doors.

'I wonder who he is?' Nightwing, deciding to hold off on his dramatic entrance for a bit, sat down to watch and see what would happen next. 'For ya know, educational purposes,' he thought. 'Let the show begin!'

* * *

Jason was pissed. He'd shot the men in front of the warehouse with his pistol. Of course, it had a silencer on it, although his bike probably gave him away. All he wanted to do today was watch some T.V. But noooo... his men just had to go and be stupid. Honestly, what was the point of goons if they couldn't so much as handle an exchange? Okay, don't answer that.

Too lazy to get off his bike, he drove through the doors and stopped in front of his people. He turned off his bike and slowly got off with a lazy and dragging gate, facing Blockbuster's men.

"Is there a problem here?" he spoke incredulously, internally happy as his helmet altered his voice into something deeper, something dark. He watched the faces of the men go from confident to scared as he waited for thug number one, as Jason decided to call him, to speak up.

"Uhh..n-no Sir, n-no problem here. We were just about to reach an agreement, right guys?" he looks towards his fellow men for conformation. The five thugs nodded their heads vigorously, not wanting to get shot. None of them looked up from their feet, not daring to look at Jason. Well, they wouldn't be looking at Jason per say, no, they'd be looking at the Red Hood.

"That's what I thought," Red Hood spoke, "You can continue then, from where you left off. I'll just wait here for you to finish." He eyed Blockbuster's men, knowing he had them trapped. Now they had to make the deal, or he'd kill them. Thug number one looked up and nodded.

After this deal is complete, Jason's plan can finally move to Phase Two. Perfect. All he needed to find was a partner.

* * *

As soon as the guy spoke, Nightwing knew he was the Red Hood. Or it was probably the helmet. Defiantly the helmet.

Dick slowly crept away from the glass and peered over the edge of the roof. The Red Hood was on his bike conversing with one of his men. Making a split-second decision, Nightwing began to follow the Red Hood when he turned into the street.

Nightwing ran seamlessly after the bike, flipping easily on occasion to keep up. He skid to a stop when the Red Hood slowed down, parking his bike and entered a nearby alley.

'What's he doing?' Curious, Nightwing glided along the roof, silently watching. 'Maybe, if I follow this guy around, I can figure out better ways to gain control over the crime.' Nightwing wondered.

A loud voice is what broke him out of his thoughts. He looked down to see the Red Hood staring right at him, gun drawn.

"I know you've been following me," he boomed, somehow still sounding lazy despite the anger. "Now get the hell down here before I shoot you. Don't make me ask twice!"

* * *

Immediately after Jason left the warehouse, he knew something was wrong, and the feeling kept getting worse the longer he drove. Call him paranoid, but he could've sworn he saw a flash of red reflect behind him.

"This day keeps getting better and better," he muttered while pulling over. If somebody was following him, might as well get the confrontation over with. Better here than at his apartment. He parked his bike and sighed. He really didn't want to do this today. Looking around, he spotted an alley. Might as well go meet the guy in there.

He slowly entered, looking for any imperfections in the shadows. His eyes roamed the edges of the rooftops when he saw it -thank you Slade- a shadow of light flicker on his left. He quickly drew his gun, pointing it at the shadow, and bellowed:

"I know you've been following me," he drew in a breath, "Now get the hell down here before I shoot you. Don't make me ask twice."

Jason swallowed anxiously. He was about to yell again when the shadow moved. The sha -man, as he could now see,- fell gracefully onto the buildings fire escape, peaking through the black bars almost childishly.

Jason stared at him for a few moments, taking in his appearance. The man's hair was black, and he wore a domino mask that covered most of his face. His outfit consisted of a black body suit, with a bright red V across his chest. It almost looked like a bird, but not quite. The red flowed from the man's chest to his shoulder's, extending to his fingertips. For weapons, the man had two sticks strapped to his back. He probably had more weapons hidden where Jason couldn't see.

This man was dangerous, that much he knew. The reason being that he was able to follow Jason in the first place. What he didn't know was what the man wanted, and Jason was going to find out.

Jason waved his gun at the man, showing that he would shoot him, and yelled.

"Who the hell are you? If you're here to kill me, let's just start the fight already. I don't need to hear your monologue."

Jason looks readily up at the man, waiting for his answer. The man doesn't reply, he only tilts his head to the side, like a dog or bird would.

Jason steps back when the man flips off the fire escape and lands in front of him, crouched and innocently staring up at him.

Red Hood moves his gun, aiming it at the mans face. He gestures to the man with his gun, "Stand up," he spoke. He thought for a moment before adding, "Who sent you?"

The man rises slowly, raising his arms to show that he means no harm. Red Hood watches, confused, as the man lowers one hand, and places it on his throat before pointing to his belt. Jason's thoughts run wild as he tries to figure out what it means. The man before him huffs and places a hand on his throat again, with more energy, and points to his belt once more.

Jason's eyes widen in surprise as it clicks. He can't talk. Why else would the guy touch his throat? He _can't talk._

With this in mind, Red Hood begins to speak. "Do you have a paper in your belt? Is that why you pointed to it?" The man nods and Jason speaks again, "Okay, so what I want you to do is slowly, _slowly_ reach into your belt and grab your paper an pencil, okay? Try anything funny and I'll shoot you."

He watches carefully as the man pulls out a small notebook with a pen. The man slowly steps forward and holds out his shaking hand towards Jason. Jason quickly looks down, still pointing his gun at the man, and sees a business card. Grabbing the card, he watches as the man backs up again, arms raised, before reading it.

 _Nightwing. Hero of Bludhaven_

Under the last line, in writing, Jason sees where Nightwing scratched out the word hero and wrote, ' _I'm not a good guy.'_ underneath it.

Red Hood pockets the card and lowers his gun. If the man wanted to hurt him, he would've done it by now. He looks down at Nightwing, noticing he's a few inches shorter than himself and approaches him. Nightwing flinches slightly, and Jason thinks he would've missed it if he hadn't been looking for it. Other than that, Nightwing doesn't move.

Red Hood points to Nightwing's notepad. "Open it. I'm about to ask you some very important questions. Okay?" Nightwing tilts his head like before and nods, opening his notepad.

'Maybe this guy can be the partner I need. I only need to figure out what his motives are,' Red Hood thought to himself.

"Alright, I know it's rude to ask people this, but I need to know. Have you ever killed someone?" Red Hood watches as Nightwing winces and writes down his answer. "Good. Now, question two: Do you want to save people?" He watches Nightwing write down his answer and look up at him. "Did anyone send you here to kill me?" Nightwing writes his answer once more. "Okay, I have one more question, but I need to see your answers first." Red Hood watches Nightwing's shaking hand as it holds out the notepad for him. Jason nods and takes it. Nightwing suddenly becomes very interested in the rocks by his feet as Jason reads.

 _1\. Yes -to many 2. Yes I do 3. No -I don't work for anyone_

Red Hood nods to himself and looks back to Nightwing, who's silently kicking the rocks. "Here," Jason holds out the notepad, speaking softly, "take it."

Nightwing looks up and grabs his papers. He flips to a new page, ready to write his answer. "My last question is the most important, so take your time if you need to think about it." Nightwing nods as Jason continues, "Do you want to come and work with me? Like, be my partner. I can teach you a few things about the crime here. It'll give you an advantage." Jason holds out his hand for Nightwing to take, watching him carefully. He looks up from his notepad, shocked, and stares at Jason's hand for a few minutes. He looks from Jason to his hand a few times before finally reaching out and taking it. Red Hood could feel the tremble in Nightwing's hand as they shook. 'Why's he shaking so much?' Jason thought as they let go.

Red Hood smirked underneath his helmet. Phase Two can finally start. He looked to Nightwing one more time before stating, "Follow me."

Neither of them noticed a camera on the building zoom in as they left the alley.

* * *

Batman had sent out a notice to all security cameras in Bludhaven to alert him if the Red Hood shows up on camera. So when he got an alert and hacked into the security cam, he was expecting to see the Red hood. What he wasn't expecting to see was the back of a man, the new hero that he'd been following to be exact, standing with Red Hood in front of him.

Batman zoomed in and tried to see what they were meeting about. Red Hood lowered his gun, and by the way Red Hood moved his hands, Batman could tell he was talking. Too bad this camera didn't pick up audio. The hero was writing something down and handed it to the Red Hood. Why was he talking with a known criminal? Batman watched silently as Red Hood shook hands with the hero, and proceed to leave with him. Batman tried to zoom in more but the camera couldn't find them. They were gone.

Batman swiftly stood from his chair, cape flowing behind him. He glided across the cave towards the zeta tube. He needed to inform the League. They needed to get to get the Hero on their team before the Red Hood ruins him.

Batman walked into the zeta tube, and in a flash of light, he was gone.

* * *

 **Wow, I'm sorry with how late this chapter is. I tried to make it longer as an apology. It's up now though. What did you think? Is there anything you want to see happen in the next chapter? I'll try to add it.**

 **I want to give thanks to my beta reader: WhenUniversesCollide They've been super helpful and I totally recommend them to anyone that may need help!**

 **Other than that I don't have anything else to say other than that if anything in the story starts to confuse you, message me and I'll explain it!**

 **Til next time,**

 **~Rachel :)**


	5. If Only It Were True

"Blah" Talking

'Blah' Thinking

 _'Blah'_ Mind Link (Only used for the team in this chapter)

* * *

The warehouse was booming with energy and movement. Men were running around rushing to pack the shipment. Red Hood stood in the center of the building, watching his men carefully. Occasionally, he'd venture over to the stations and check up on their progress. This was a large shipment, after all, and the deadline was rapidly approaching.

Lex Luthor had hired them to ship kryptonite from Bludhaven to Metropolis and in return, he'd give them six- hundred grand and some state-of-the-art mind linking tech. Which is exactly what Jay needed, because he was getting real tired of waiting for Nightwing to text out his words. Nothing against the guy, it just wasn't good for any 'bad' situations they might get into. The only problem was that Lex wanted the shipment in three days. Everything had gone according to plan so far, but you never know with all these heroes popping up everywhere.

Red Hood scanned the warehouse briefly before glancing up. He hadn't known Nightwing long, but he'd figured out that if you can't find the guy, look up. He would always perched in the weirdest spots. Just this morning Jason found him perched on his counter, watching the microwave cook a hot pocket. Not the strangest thing Nightwing had done, but it was still high up on the list.

Jason could barely make out anything in the rafters above him. Nightwing was nowhere to be seen. Honestly, Jason wasn't that surprised. The guy knew how to blend in. Jason sighed, shouting up into the rafters, "Hey birdie, do you mind coming down here for a second? I've got something to tell you."

He stood there for a few moments when he felt a buzzing in his pants. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Checking the notifications. He found that he had a new text. The message read:

 _From: Birdie_

 _Yeah sure, i'll be down in a minute :) Look out_

"Really? You had to text me that?" Red Hood grumbled, backing away. Why did Jason even buy him a phone? Now his phone blew up every few minutes with random pictures of elephants.

Jason watched as Nightwing flipped out of the rafters and silently landed in a crouch. The whole warehouse seemed to pause for a moment, all eyes on Nightwing. Nobody had really gotten a chance to see Red Hood's new partner yet. Jason had kept him away from his men for the first few days as he wanted to be sure he could trust the guy first.

"Get back to work! We have a deadline to meet!" he shouted, voice echoing loudly throughout the warehouse.

Jason motioned to Nightwing, leading him to a corner of the warehouse. He wanted to ask him about his opinion on the mind linking tech, make sure he was okay with it and was willing to use it.

"So you know how I told you that Lex is giving us some money and tech for this job, right?" Jason briefly paused, waiting for Nightwing's nod, before continuing. "Well, that tech links our minds." he spoke. Nightwing tilted his head in confusion, writing out a reply on his phone. Jason waited patiently until he was handed the device.

 _"Links our minds? What do you mean? Will it hurt? What do we know after our minds are linked?"_

Jason thought for a moment as he handed the phone back.

"So Lex hasn't given me all the details yet. But he explained a little bit to me." Nightwing crossed his arms and nodded, looking slightly distressed.

"Basically, we get these coms, well at least they look like coms, and we put them in our ear." Jason motioned towards his head, "While they're in, we'll be able to communicate without speaking. Kinda like a Martian mind link." he added. "So what I want to know is, will you be willing to use this?" Jason questioned.

Nightwing brought his hand to his chin in thought. Every once in awhile Jason would see him tilt his head, silently debating with himself. After a few minutes, Nightwing finally looked at him and gave him a thumbs up. Jason smiled underneath his helmet, "Does that mean you'll use it?"

Nightwing smiled at him and nodded again, holding two thumbs up this time.

"Well then, let's hurry up and finish this job!" he exclaimed, clapping Nightwing on the back as they made their way back to the middle of the building, thoughts on how to finish this job without the Justice League barging in and ruining his plan occupying his thoughts.

"Hey Birdie," he turned to Nightwing once more, "How much do you know about the Justice League?"

* * *

 **Conference Room**

The meeting was supposed to start five minutes ago, but of course, Flash was late. Clark could see Batman slowly growing more annoyed as the seconds turned to minutes. When Flash finally popped into the room, Bruce looked like he was ready to strangle him.

"Batman, why did you call this meeting? What's going on?" Clark questioned. The rest of the League murmured in agreement. Batman pulled up some photos on the computer, enlarging then so everyone could see.

"This," he paused and zoomed in on a man wearing a red helmet. "Is the Red Hood. A mob boss that mainly works in Bludhaven, but he has recently spread into Gotham." Batman stopped talking, letting the information sink in.

"Okay, but why does this concern the League? There are plenty of other mob bosses out there. Why is this one so important?" Green Arrow remarked, sitting forward in his seat.

Batman pulled up another photo. This one of a man wearing a black suit with red stripes.

"Who's that?" Wonder Woman interjected.

Ignoring her question, Batman continued his explanation.

"This is the the new hero of Bludhaven. Approximately one week ago, I hacked into a security camera in Bludhaven that showed Red Hood and this hero making some sort of deal. Two days ago, I learned that Red Hood is shipping kryptonite to Metropolis." he finished.

Kryptonite? Clark felt himself grow skittish- he knew who they were planning to use it on, and he did not like it one bit. They needed to stop this shipment. Clark looked around the table to the others. The League was sharing nervous glances with one another, all wondering the same thing: how much kryptonite and who's buying it?

"Hey Batman, why didn't you say the hero's name?" Flash inquired, examining the photo.

"Because I don't know it."

Flashes jaw dropped. Batman...didn't know?

"What do you mean you don't know? You're Batman, you know everything!" Flash belted.

Face remaining stoic, Batman spoke calmly. "I don't know because he hasn't spoken his name. All the reports regarding him say that he gives the people he saves a thumbs up or down. He hasn't spoken a word to any of them."

A collection of 'hmm's rung throughout the room. Everyone pondering the new information. Why hasn't he told anyone his name? What's his plan? What's he trying to hide?

After a brief silence, Batman pulls up a few more pictures. This time they're of a run down warehouse.

"This is where Red Hood is packing the kryptonite. I want to send in the team to covertly remove the kryptonite while we distract the Red Hood."

The League whispered silently to one another. Contemplating their options. How dangerous is the Red Hood? How would they distract him long enough for the Team to get in and out?

"Batman," Green arrow started, "You said this hero was making a deal with Red Hood right?"

"Yes"

"Well, what if he's at the warehouse helping him. Do we take him down too?" he pointed out.

"I will leave that decision to the Team. If they think he's a threat, then they'll take him down. However I'd rather they bring him back here. He could make a great hero from what I've seen so far." Batman explained, shutting down the computer. "If that's all your questions, start forming a plan. I'll go gather the team for briefing." He turned swiftly, cape flowing behind him. He left the room, entrusting the rest of the League to create a plan. Of course, he had a backup, but he wanted to make them feel good.

* * *

"I want everything moved to the backup building in two hours!" Bellowed the Red Hood. Everything around him was chaos- people running around yelling out orders. He had no choice though, the League was on the way, and he wasn't about to lose this job.

"Nightwing! I need you to go do a roof check. If anyone is nearby, try not to be seen. You're the flaw in the League's plan. Let's make sure we keep it that way." Red Hood watched Nightwing take off before bringing his attention back to his men.

He called over a Lieutenant that was supervising the shipping crates. The man, Shaw, rushed over to Red Hood.

"Yea Boss, whatcha need?" Shaw questioned while turning his blaring radio down.

"I need you to make sure everything gets out of here in two hours." Jason ordered,"I need to head out with Nightwing and see how much time we have until the League gets here. Can you handle that?" He searched Shaw's face for any doubt about the job. He found none.

"Sure thing Boss. No problem.' He replied and walked back over to the crates, shouting new orders.

Right as Jason was taking out his phone to contact him, Nightwing appeared by his side. He tilted his head and gave Jason a thumbs up. So nobody was around here then. Perfect.

"Hey Goldie, you and I need to head out and find out how far away the League is. If their to close we're going to have to buy some time. Are you okay being seen with me. Wouldn't it like, ruin your hero status or something?" He questioned, beginning to make his way to the exit, Nightwing following. "Don't answer that. We don't have time to type right now. Just nod if it's cool." Jason watched as Nightwing nodded and pushed forward, opening the rusted door and walking out of the building.

Jason paused in front of the door, "Okay, then let's get this party started." He spoke and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

 **The Team**

 _'Is everyone in position?'_ Aqualad questioned from his hiding place by the docks.

A bunch of collective 'yeas' flew over the mind link. Aqualad winced a bit, they didn't need to think so loud. Granted that a few members were still rather new and don't know how this link works.

 _'Okay good. Does everyone remember the plan? Make sure you wait for the League's sign.'_ Ordered Aqualad.

 _'Yea we know fish boy; don't worry.'_ Artemis replied from her perch on the opposing roof of the warehouse.

 _'Hey, what do we do if this hero guy is here?'_ Superboy questioned, from his hiding spot behind some shipping crates.

The team had seen a few pictures of this guy and honestly, they thought he looked easy to beat. Batman was always telling them to overestimate rather than underestimate their enemies, because you don't want to be caught unprepared. But seriously, this guy just became a hero, what, four, weeks ago? How hard could he be to beat. They were way more experienced, and it was five to one. Two if you count the Red Hood, but he probably wasn't even around.

Their plan was to just overpower him with their numbers and drag him back to the mountain for questioning. Nobody wanted a new member, they thought they had enough already. Plus they didn't know anything about the guy.

Before Aqualad had the chance to answer the question, a loud explosion erupted from the warehouse.

 _'Team, GO!'_ Aqualad shouted over the mind link and took off. He could see M'gann flying above him, and Artemis running along the rooftops, Superboy, however, wasn't in sight.

The team met up at the back of the building, Kid Flash telling them the perimeter was secure.

"Okay, I need everyone to stay sharp. Grab as many cases of kryptonite as you can and place them in the bioship. Understand? This a mission we cannot fail." Aqualad spoke calmly but firmly.

"Got it," replied the team, taking off into the warehouse.

* * *

 **Jason**

He was standing on the roof waiting for something to happen when the ground below him exploded. Jason was thrown to the side of the roof, and tumbled as he tried to regain his lost footing. He landed in a low crouch, and could smell the burnt leather of his coat. 'Well there goes this jacket' he thought sourly in dismay. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself. The explosion had brought back some unwanted memories, and he needed to focus on this fight. Jason couldn't get distracted. He pushed the memories away, and stood up to face his opponents.

"Well, that wasn't really nice, now was it?" he regarded sarcastically, "This was my favorite Jacket. Or _was,_ " He grinned under his helmet when he saw the shadow of Superman floating above him.

"Isn't this a little too much firepower for a little mob boss like me?" he taunted, slowly drawing the gun from the holster at his hip.

A loud and powerful voice boomed across the roof, "Don't touch that gun, or we're going to have a big problem." Superman commanded.

"Mhm...I don't think so. You see, I really need to finish this job. I told someone I was going to make something easier for them and I don't plan on letting them down." he declared and drew his gun. He aimed it at Batman, who was in front of him, but a batarang knocked the gun out of his hand. Jason wasn't really surprised, but nonetheless hissed in pain for a second before twisting out of the path of a few arrows.

He ran along the edge of the roof, dodging arrows and batarangs as they approached. Unsurprisingly, Superman managed to grab him before he could draw his second gun. However, this is what he was planning on. He'd taken a bit of kryptonite from one of the boxes before coming up here. It never hurt to be prepared right?

"Surrender now or I'll grind your face into the dirt," demanded Superman.

Jason laughed, internally thinking that if the oh-so mighty hero had know he wasn't some old dude he would go easy on him. That's why Jay loved his helmet."Heh, Supes, don't you know how bad rocks are for your teeth? I mean, have you ever tried to eat one? You haven't have you? Well here, let me show you how!" Jason retorts, reaching for the green rock in his pocket. Thankfully Superman's grip loosened in his confusion and Jason was just able to reach it. He shoved Superman roughly and twisted out of his grip, throwing the kryptonite at him.

Not expecting the rock, Superman was unable to stop it from hitting him in the chest. He collapsed into a coughing fit, and fell onto his hands and knees next to the glowing kryptonite. Jason knew this wouldn't hold him off for long, he had to act quickly.

His remaining opponents, Batman and Green Arrow, were slowly starting to circle him. If Jason didn't play this right, he was going to lose.

He needed a plan. Jason knew he wouldn't last long against Batman. Even with all his training, the fight would still end badly for him. Green Arrow, however, would be fairly easy to take down...at least he hoped so.

* * *

 **The Team**

They'd snuck in the back together and split up to gather the crates. Aqualad went out to the front of the building, near the water to keep watch. He had a feeling that he was going to need it. Superboy was grabbing crates two at a time, and M'gann was hovering three at a time. Artemis was struggling to push one crate down the hall even with Kid Flash helping her along. So far, everything was going off without a hitch. Hopefully it stayed that way too.

* * *

 **Nightwing**

He watched the team 'sneak' into the warehouse. It was quite funny, at least to him. They made more noise than a herd of elephants.

They had fallen into their trap. The mini League hadn't even noticed the different weight of the shipping crates. They were way to light to hold all the kryptonite. This team was inexperienced. The heroes should've at least opened one of the crates first.

Nightwing watched them from above. Trying to decide if he should attack now or wait until they're all outside. If he waited it would make the fight more interesting, but it would be easier to take them out individually.

It didn't really bother him- taking down these heroes. Well, nothing really bothered him anymore honestly.

Plus, it's not like Lex is going to get any of the kryptonite. Red Hood was going to deliver it, get paid, and then steal it. He had said it was all part of his plan. Dick kept forgetting to ask him about the plan though, so he had no actual idea what it was.

When a loud crash echoed throughout the building, Nightwing was brought out of his musings. 'Don't these guys know how to be quiet. It's like they're asking to be caught.' he thought dryly.

He looked down to find the source of the noise. It was the floating green girl, she dropped one of the crates that had been levitating. Damn. Now they'll figure out they're _not_ filled with kryptonite.

Nightwing watched as they silently looked at each other, cocking their heads or glaring occasionally. Dick pondered for a moment. 'Are they communicating? Maybe, but how?'

The Team proceeded to speed walk out of the building. If he was guessing, Dick would say they're heading back to their ship. But he didn't need to guess. He already knew.

Nightwing crept along the rafters and silently slipped out a broken window. Might as well salvage this and confront them now. After all, Red Hood was still fighting the League and hopefully, winning.

How did he want to surprise them? Throw something? Drop in behind them? Poke one in the back? Blow a whistle? 'Maybe i'll just drop in a see how long it takes them to notice me?' he wondered. Dick slid out of the window and dropped silently onto the pavement. None of the team turned around. Not even the rage boy. 'Wow, they really need to work on that. Not being able to here someone will get them killed.' Dick thought and crept up to follow the water boy.

Nightwing was silently creeping a few feet behind him, walking almost like a cartoon character would with childish sarcasm- and thoroughly enjoying it. He wasn't spotted until someone walked out of their ship.

"Aqualad! Look out! There's someone behind you!" the woman shouted, pointing towards Nightwing.

To surprised by the outburst to react, Dick was unable to dodge the water that was thrown at him. Now soaking wet, he began to slowly back up. His arms flew from his sides and wrapped around his midsection. His eyes widened beneath his mask, and he started to breathe quickly.

Cold. He was cold. The cold was bad. It meant being _frozen_ , _he_ was going to be frozen. Nightwing began to tremble and he hunched over himself, walking back further.

"M...frie...are..yo..kay?"

Someone was speaking, but he couldn't focus, he was _too cold._ What were they saying? Were _they_ going to freeze him? Hurt him?

Dick suddenly felt a weight on his arm. He flinched violently, lashing out at the air. He felt his fist connect with something solid, but that was it. Nothing else was getting through. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, the tight feeling in his chest. _It was wrong._ Dick was gasping for air now. Someone was shaking his shoulders and shouting loudly, but he couldn't focus on what they were saying. He tried to, he really did but he couldn't deal with it anymore. He wanted it to end. The memories were starting to surface now. Those dreadful things. Dick wanted it to end.

Things were starting to go black, and the earth was spinning. His vision was getting fuzzy and his heart felt like it was going to explode. He felt too much, and honestly, he was glad when he finally felt nothing.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I'm back and with the longest chapter I've written so far! Wow.** **So what did** **you think of this chapter? Any questions?**

 **Oh, and I'd like to thank AppleTheAmazing for giving me the idea to using mind linking tech and a 'fear' of water :)**

 **As always, please review! I love reading your comments!**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel :)**


	6. Who We Are

_'blah'_ is thinking

"blah" is speech

 _blah_ is Jason and Dick's mind link (It has no quotations of any kind) Let me know if you like it underlined or not. If won't be in this chapter but I want your opinion before I write it in.

* * *

-Flashback-

It had been hours since the boy was brought into the room, and his bare feet were numb against the cold stone floor.

The room was kept at freezing temperatures. There were no windows nor vents, only a large metal door. It had no handles on the inside, making it impossible to escape. The room was built to keep people - _things-_ in, not out.

The boy was chained to the wall by his collar and wrists, and his legs were bound to the floor. The metal shackles he wore sliced into his skin with every attempt he made to free himself.

The small child let out an anguished cry, voice cracking as he yelled. The chains on his body rattled as his body trembled. Torn and shredded by the torture he'd endured, his clothes were more or less nonexistent, making the child even colder in the already freezing room. The boy curled into himself, shivering and sobbing silently.

The young Talon looked to be about ten. Far too skinny for his age. His face was too pale to look healthy, in fact, he almost looked dead. The sparkle in his eyes had dimmed and his smile had run away. The room he resided in was for punishment. He had failed...again.

The groan of the heavy door opening forced the child to uncurl and sit up straight. He couldn't be caught lying down. It would only prolong his time here.

His eyes were blinded by the light that shone through the door. The boy peaked through squinted lashes to see the silhouette of a man he knew all too well. His Master.

The child watched as his Master eyed him coldly. How much longer was he going to stay here?

"Mas-"

A loud crack and the thud of a body echoed in the small room.

"What have I told you about speaking, boy?" His Master spat angrily.

The child began to tremble, hiding away in the corner of the room. He knew what came next, and he hated it.

His Master left the room for a moment and returned with a chair, dragging it behind him.

He unlocked the child's chains and pushed him towards the chair. The boy sat down and watched with dreading eyes as his Master locked his arms and legs to the cold steel.

"Since you never seem to learn, it's time we take more..." he paused, pulling a long knife from the sash across his chest, "Drastic measures." He finished and looked at the child with a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

"No! Master! Plea-"

The child's pleas were cut off as a knife plunged into his thigh. The boy let out a blood curtailing scream as the blade was twisted around in his leg.

"What did I tell you about speaking, Talon?" his Master spat, grinning down at him. "You are not to speak unless you are told. Correct?"

The boy nodded his head, burying the scream that was climbing up his throat. His Master grinned and pulled out the knife, twisting the blade as it left. The child bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he did not scream.

His pain did not last long, however. He bowed his head and watched as his torn flesh molded itself back together, healing him.

He was a monster now, inside and out, and no one was coming to save him. _Batman_ wasn't coming to save him. He'd given up hope on any kind of rescue after his transformation. After all, who would want to save him? A killer. A _monster._

"It seems that the new formula works well on you, doesn't it?" His Master spoke coolly, walking silently around the chair. "You heal much quicker than the rest." he paused, taking in a breath, "You run faster, see better, sense more. But do you know what else that means?" His Master stopped and looked down at the child.

The boy looked up, not making eye contact, and shook his head to the side. The blood from his lip flung onto the floor as he moved. He bit into it harder, holding back a whimper.

"That means," the man continued, "that we get to have much more fun in our little..." he waved his hand around in the air, "tutoring sessions than the rest." he finished.

The child released a small sob and trembled in the cold chair. He wasn't supposed to cry. He wasn't supposed to react to the pain. He wasn't allowed because Talon's _don't feel._ That's why he was in this room. He felt _too much_ and they didn't like that. Talons were weapons, not _people_ , and he needed to be reset.

The boy's master began to walk around the chair once more, tapping the metal with his clawed gloves.

"I think it's time we try a _different_ method, don't you?" he grinned down at the young Talon, chuckling softly.

The boy's eyes widened in horror and his breath grew quicker. He wasn't going to...was he? The child's heart was pounding now.

"How's your swimming?"

 _No._

-Flashback End-

* * *

Jason was sitting in his living room chair patching his wounds from the fight. Batman had managed to embed a batarang in his shoulder. It stung but he'd had worse.

Jason had been forced to escape. He had been fighting them for a while -Batman and Green Arrow- before Jason had heard the commotion behind the warehouse. At first, he thought nothing of it, but when he was knocked off the roof and _saw_ what it was. Well, let's just say you shouldn't have been in his path.

He had rushed over to the scene, attacking anyone in his way. Taking hit after hit, and yet, he had still failed.

Jason was worried and pissed. Pissed at himself for getting distracted and letting them take Nightwing. Worried about what happened to him. Why was he freaking out? What was the League going to do to him? Nightwing doesn't fair well with new people, Jason had figured that out right away. He just hoped the League would too.

He stood from the chair and tossed his helmet onto the coffee table, his domino mask following. Jason walked towards his kitchen to grab some much-needed coffee. He filled his cup, leaving it black, and rested his hip on the counter.

Jason let out an angry growl and slammed his mug onto the granite. What was he going to do? He needed to get Nightwing back. Who knew what lies the League would tell him about the 'Psychotic Red Hood'. Jason didn't want to lose his new friend. His partner. He needed to do something. Jason hated to admit it, but he needed help.

He grabbed the burner cell from his pocket and dialed an old number. He waited in silence as the rings went by. Hoping the person would pick up.

"Come on, come on. Pick up already," he grumbled into the phone. Jason shifted his weight on the counter and picked up his mug again.

The ringing stopped, and Jason held his breath. He could hear the faint exhale coming from the other line.

"Slade? You there? It's me. How fast can you get here? I need your help with something. It's important."

* * *

~Flashback~(Kinda, it's more like a narration but whatever)

The streets of Gotham are a cruel place for a child to grow up. It twists and morphs them into something vile and obnoxious. Their childlike innocence is wrenched away and replaced with thievery and greed. Every shadow holds a secret and every corner leads them down a darker path. However, there are a few that make it out. The lucky ones that get adopted into a good home with lots of money. They go to school, make friends, and live a happy life. Truly lucky. Some children even manage to leave Gotham and its filth behind on their own. Be it by boat, car, or train. They are lucky, yes, but not as lucky as the adopted ones.

Then there are those who stay behind. The children who prosper in the filth by selling drugs and committing petty crime. These children aren't out for long, as most get placed into the juvenile detention center once they're caught. But then, once all those children are gone, it leaves a certain breed of child on the street. The truly evil ones. Whether they know it or not. They are the children that even Gotham barley wants. Children like Jason Todd.

Jason wasn't always one of these evil children. He was a good son with a loving mother and father. He kept his grades up and had lots of friends. He was an overall happy and kind child. Jason was considered to be a privileged boy in the slums, with him having both parents around most of the time. But as everyone says, all good things must come to an end, and in Gotham, this was a well-known truth. When Jason was nine, his life began its downward spiral. His father lost his job and turned to a life of crime. The crime -being part of a mob- was the main cause of his death when Jason was ten. Jason's mother didn't take his father's death well. She turned to drugs: meth, cocaine, heroin, she would take anything and everything she could get her hands on. Jason was forced to watch his mother become a crippled shell of what she used to be. He watched her deteriorate, day after day as she continued to slowly kill herself. And one day, when he was eleven, Jason didn't have to watch anymore.

It's said that tragedy changes people, some for better or worse. Most people have family or friends to help them through their grief, others have nothing, nobody. And since Jason had no one, he chose a darker route to try to heal. He blamed himself for his mother's declining condition. Jason would tell himself that if he had told someone, or got a job to help with rent, then maybe his mother wouldn't have started doing those things to him. Maybe if he kept his grades up and quit skipping school, then his mother wouldn't have been so angry with him. Maybe she wouldn't have said those things or called him those names. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hate her for causing him so much pain. Just _maybe_.

When Jason was eleven -just a few months shy of turning twelve- he met a man. Jason had just finished up one of his more unsavory jobs -killing a mob deserter- when the masked man had stopped him in an alley. He asked Jason a barrage of questions about what he had just done and why he was doing it. He asked if Jason understood the depth of taking someone's life. He asked how he learned to fight, and if he wanted to learn more. If he wanted a real teacher. Jason took the man up on his offer, becoming his apprentice. But the downward spiral of Jason's life didn't end there. In fact, that was just the beginning.

The rest, as they say, is history.

~Flashback end~

* * *

A rhythmic beep was the first thing he was aware of when he woke. The annoying beat almost gave him a headache. Well, worse than the one he already had. The stench of medicine and sweet bleach -if bleach were ever to smell sweet- wafted into his nose as he regained his senses, and the soft cushion beneath him warned him of his change of scenery. This wasn't his or Hood's base. The cushion underneath him was too soft to be either of their couches.

Nightwing wiggled his eyebrows, checking to see if his mask was still on. It was, and he was glad to feel the familiar heaviness over his eyes. The mask was always the first thing people tried to remove. It's why he made sure his wouldn't come off unless he touched a certain part of it with his glove. He wasn't going to let anyone see his eyes. He didn't want to hear what they would call him.

Dick tried to move his hand but found that it was restrained. He peaked open an eye from beneath his mask. A stark white ceiling greeted him, and the light was blinding even with all the protection his mask brought. He squeezed his eyes shut and held them tightly closed for a few moments.

Dick opened them slowly this time, giving them a few extra seconds to adjust to the bright room. What would he do if his captors asked about his skin? He knew he was too pale to look healthy, and it's not like the faint blue lines on his neck were well hidden either. What would he tell them? _Nothing, he would say nothing. He couldn't say anything_. Dick focused his eyes on the objects around the room, taking in all the details and mapping any possible escape routes. He needed to have a plan. Surrounding him were a bunch of medical tools and machines, and a few stretchers were lying on the table across from him as well. Where was he? Where was Hood? Was he okay?

He looked down his arm and focused his attention onto his wrist. A polished metal cuff had made itself comfortable there. Dick shook his wrist, testing the strength of the metal. He found that he could easily dislocate his thumb and slip them off, but decided against it until he could get more information about his whereabouts. It wasn't good to escape with a bad plan.

The Court had this seven-hour rule they would follow when a Talon was captured. Three hours to create a plan, three hours to escape, and one hour to return to the Court for punishment. If any Talon ever showed up late, even if it was by a few seconds, they would be terminated for abandoning the Court...permanently. Dick himself had come close a few times, but he always made it back within those hours.

Dick struggled to remember what happened at the warehouse. He knew he had gotten wet and panicked, but then everything felt like it was on fire and it all went black. It was strange really, that had never happened to him before, at least with water. Dick was also ignoring the fact that he had been avoiding the liquid altogether...well, except for general cleanliness that is. He wasn't about to run around the city smelling like the armpit of a buzzard's wing. Dick just hated the memories that water forced his brain to remember, so he tended to avoid it.

Dick focused once again on the main problem of his day so far. Where were the people that took him? Did they already know he was awake? He wasn't sure yet, but he was going to assume that they did. They were probably going to make him wait a few hours so he would become anxious and less restricting with what he'd tell them in an interrogation. Too bad for them, he had used this method on people before and knew how it worked. All they're going to get from him is silence. So now the question was: Who are they, and when were they coming?

* * *

"I have a plan."

"Is it a good plan?"

"It's a plan."

Deathstroke sighed, he was sitting across from Red Hood on the rooftop. It had been almost midnight when he'd gotten the call from the kid. Jason had sounded pretty worried on the phone so Slade dropped his current contract and rushed over to Bludhaven. He was just hoping it was worth losing the money for.

"Why'd you call me here. What's the problem?" Deathstroke questioned casually, watching Red Hood from the corner of his eye.

"A friend of mine was taken earlier today by the Justice League and I need your help getting him back." Red Hood replied, a hint of anger rising in his voice.

Deathstroke quirked an eyebrow from underneath his helmet. "Who's your friend? Last time I checked you didn't have any." Slade inquired with an amused tone.

Red Hood hesitated a few moments before speaking. Slade took notice of this but decided not to comment on it. Did Jason not want anyone to know about him?

"...Nightwing. He's the new hero in Bludhaven." Red Hood responded coolly, standing up to brush off his pants.

Slade was interested now. "Nightwing? I've never heard of him. Why would the League take him if he's a hero like them?" he spoke, following Red Hood's movement and stood up as well. What could this guy possibly do to make the _League_ take him?

"Well, they probably want to get him away from me. You know, with me being a villain and all."Red Hood spoke with sarcasm clearly present in his voice as he gestured to the many weapons he had on his body. "But then again, he's not exactly a hero either, but the League doesn't know that," he added seriously.

Deathstroke raised his eyebrows -even if the movement was covered- at the new information. "Elaborate. What do you mean he's not exactly a hero?" He questioned, his voice dripping with an authoritative tone.

"Well, I don't exactly know for sure, but he doesn't consider himself a hero. He also told me that he's killed people before, although he didn't specify how many." Red Hood responded instantly, walking towards the edge of the roof.

"Interesting. Well, we can talk later about this. Why don't you tell me about this plan so we can help your friend." Deathstroke suggested, turning to face Jason once again.

"Yeah okay, later then. So here's the plan." Jason waved his hands around in the air as he spoke." Jacob Hall, he's a serial rapist that has been on my hit list for a while now. I was thinking that since 'Wing fell unconscious, they'd put him in some sort of med-bay right? At least until he wakes up. So if the mighty Deathstroke just happens to stroll into town and injure this man severely,-not kill him- then the League will probably come investigate." Red Hood finished.

"Alright, it makes sense so far, but why do we need this guy?" Deathstroke inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm glad you asked!" Red Hood shouted sarcastically, pointing a finger into the air. "I just finished this job for Lex and part of the payment was some tech. _Mind linking_ tech to be exact." Red Hood said knowingly, placing extra emphasis on his words. "So if you injure this guy enough, the League will have to take him back to their hideout to be treated. That will probably put him in the same room as 'Wing."

"Interesting, but why would the League come in the first place? What's so special about this guy that would make them take Jacob back to their base?" Deathstroke asked impatiently, growing irritated as Jason continued to leave out key details.

"Nothing, there's nothing special about him, but the League doesn't know that." He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "They probably want to lock you up, so I figured they'd want to use this guy for interrogation. They'd make sure he lived long enough to give them some information." Jason added.

"Anyway, once Jacob's in the med-bay, he'd give Nightwing this," Red Hood held out his palm. Deathstroke glanced down at the small object. It appeared to be a small com device. It was a pale grayish white and looked to be about the size of a dime. Nothing to special.

"What is it?"

"It's the mind linking tech. Once Jacob discreetly gives it to Nightwing, all he has to do is put it in his ear. It'll hurt for a few seconds but after that, he and I will be able to communicate since I have one in as well." He pointed to the side of his head. "That'll allow us to learn where he's being held, and formulate a plan to rescue him." Red Hood spoke proudly. Obviously happy about the plan he came up with.

Slade hummed in agreement, thinking it over. Evaluating the plan's strengths and weaknesses, and coming up with a few backup plans as well. Jason's idea wasn't that bad, but it wasn't great either. However, it was the best they could come up with on such a short notice though, so it'd have to work. He just hoped that Nightwing was smart enough not to get caught with the com. Their whole plan was riding on the fact that he and Jason would be able to communicate.

"When does the plan start?" Deathstroke asked, eyeing Jason carefully.

Even though Slade couldn't see it, he knew that Jason grinned devilishly from underneath his mask as he spoke his next words.

"Right now."

* * *

Nightwing had been lying motionless on the bed since he'd woken up. Dick had already counted all the ceiling and floor tiles over ten times counted to one thousand three times and thought his ABC's eight times. It must have been a few hours by now because he could feel his legs starting to go numb. That wasn't good. Now he wouldn't be able to move as quickly if he were attacked. Quite inconvenient. He huffed out a small breath, growing impatient. Dick knew that he should feel fear about being captured again _-restrained-_ but he'd been through worse. After all, this was nothing compared to what the Court used to do to him. He slowly sat up on the bed and began to wiggle his legs and feet, trying to work the feeling back into them.

Dick had been wondering how much longer he'd have to wait here when the white doors of the med-bay slid open. He looked up to see a few unrecognizable faces alongside a face he'd never forget, slip into the room. Dick's breath caught in his throat, and his heart began to pound in his chest. What if he recognized him? What if he saw through the new costume and remembered the teen that tried to kill him a few months ago? Dick was slightly panicking now and was trying _-forcing-_ his breath to remain calm. He wouldn't let himself get recognized. Not when he was finally starting to heal. Not when he was finally _free._

Nightwing remembered the attack all too well. It was always there, every time he closed his eyes. Every word the man spoke to him was imprinted onto his brain. All the words about helping him, and how he was allowed to make his own choices. The _lies_ about saving him. All _lies._ Dick remembered every wound that he dealt and it felt like a stab to the heart. This man was the reason he left the Court, even if he'd never know. He was the reason Dick vanished and became a hero. But he was also the reason Dick was a Talon. He was the reason Dick could no longer look at himself in the mirror. He was the reason why Dick didn't talk anymore. Child Dick had placed so much hope into this man and was shattered when he never came to rescue him. But maybe being shattered was his own fault, after all, he was the one who placed such blind faith into a man that was more myth than truth.

This man, _The Batman,_ Dick _hated_ him.

But he was also petrified of him too.

* * *

 **Hey everyone! I'm back!**

 **How did you like this chapter? Let me know in the comments. Do you want anything to happen in the story that you haven't seen yet, let me know! I'll add it in. :)**

 **Also, I hope that this chapter wasn't too confusing. If it is let me know and I'll try to fix it. :) I know I put a lot of backstory in it.**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel :)**

 **(P.S) To the person that writes their reviews in Spanish, I wanted to let you know that I do read and enjoy them very much! :) The same applies to everyone :)**

 **(P.P.S) What do you think about pairings, should I add any? It's up to you guys. :)**


	7. Keep Your Friends Close

_"Blah"_ is Jason and Dick's mind link

 _'Blah'_ is thought

"Blah" is talking

* * *

Robin was watching the med-bay security cameras alongside the rest of the Team. They'd been waiting hours for the unconscious man to awaken. Batman wanted to interrogate him on his affiliation with the Red Hood as soon as possible, and honestly, so did the Team. They're all curious as to who this guy was.

Tim hadn't told anyone yet, but the hero looked eerily familiar to someone he'd met once before. Now, he wasn't sure if they were the same person. The last time Tim had seen the man he'd been a small child, and the man had been a young boy. He was praying they weren't the same person because the boy his father introduced him to had been a monster.

It could've been the hint of blue that shone in his ebony hair, or the pale white skin he wore that sparked Tim's memory. That made him notice how similar they were in the first place. He just hoped it was a crazy coincidence because the boy Tim met should be dead. Well, at least that's what his father had told him.

* * *

~FlashbacK~

The room held dozens of metal cages, each one varying in size. The dimly lit room gave only enough light to see a few feet in front of you, as to not damage the merchandise. The pair walked silently through the room, eyeing each cage carefully. Inside each pen was prized weaponry, and the purchase of one must be made very carefully. The Man walked closely beside each enclosure, gazing inside for a few seconds before moving on. There was a certain item that he was looking for, one that was _very_ rare and expensive.

A young boy wandered to each cage, eyes wide as he read the name tags tied to the bars. The man watched him roam, keeping a close eye on his only son.

The young boy caught sight of a small cage tucked away in one of the corners and waddled towards it. "Papa, is this one ours?" The young child, no older than eight asked, pointing to the rusted metal.

Inside the cage was a pitiful sight -or it could be to some. The thing inside was wearing metal cuffs and a jagged collar that tore at it's skin. It's hair was black and filthy, and it's eyes were an eerie yellow. The thing watched every movement the two people made with a blank expression.

"Yes, it's ours, Timmy." The Father replied proudly, sparing a glance at the tag on the enclosure.

"Why do we have him? Can he come out and play with me?" Timmy questioned and peered in through the rusted bars. He went to poke the creature but his Father's hand came down upon his, stopping the movement.

"No, you can't play with it. Its purpose here is to keep us safe. It doesn't have time to play." His Father answered, watching the chained object inside with mild disgust.

Timmy removed his small hands from the steel bars, watching sadly at the boy inside. "Can he at least come out? He looks sad in there," he asked and shifted to look at his Father, eyes moistening.

"No, Timmy, he can't." The Father pointed to the chained boy, who merely watched them converse, his expression remaining blank. "He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature."

Timmy glanced up at his Papa, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I won't forget." He looked back at the boy and smiled at him. "Can you tell me your name?" Timmy asked the strange boy.

His Father grew angry at the question. "You're a smart kid Timmy, I want you to always remember that. But one day, this _thing_ will be yours to command, and you need to understand that it's only purpose is to kill. You must show it no kindness. It will only take advantage of that and hurt you in the end."

"Yes Papa, but what is his name?"

The Father looked down at his child for a moment, pondering, and then looked down at the _thing,_ catching its blank stare. "Not him, _It._ We call _it_ a Talon, Timmy. They are an extension of us -the Owls- a tool built only for our use. Ours to command. They exist only for us."

The boy turned from his Father to watch the caged boy again. "Hello Talon, my name is Timmy. Nice to meet you!" he greeted, smiling brightly.

The Talon inside tilted his head like a dog. It was confusing. What was it supposed to do? Was that a command? It shifted in the cage, sitting comfortably on its legs and spoke softly.

"...Masters?"

~Flashback End~

* * *

"Robin, you alright? You kind of zoned out there for a minute."

A hand waved in front of his face, jolting him from the memory, "Huh? Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking about the hero. Sorry." Robin turned to face his teammate, rubbing his arm.

"It's alright. Batman just called us to the med-bay, the guy finally woke up." Superboy spoke, casually pointing behind him to their friends retreating forms.

"Really!? That's great! I'll be there in a few seconds, I need to turn off these cameras first." Robin replied as he excitedly typed away on the keyboard.

"Okay, I'll see you there then," Superboy answered, clapping Robin on the back, causing him to jump forward a bit.

Robin listened to the sound of Superboy's footsteps fade down the corridor. It was time to get some answers. He shut down the computer and walked down the hall to the med-bay. Hopefully, he was wrong about the guy and this was all a big coincidence. _Hopefully_.

* * *

"So you're the hero of Bludhaven?" Batman's voice cut through the silence. He walked forward and stopped a few feet from the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nightwing stiffened at Batman's approach and quickly nodded at the man. He was even more intimidating now that Dick wasn't worrying about being attacked.

"You're going to need to answer a few questions for us before you're allowed to leave," Batman explained, not leaving any room for objection. Dick nodded to Batman, letting the man know that he understood. It's not like he'd even be able to object if he wanted to.

Nightwing watched Batman carefully as he moved to remove the metal cuff on his wrist. He kept his eyes glued to the man, and he -Batman- did the same. Dick could only guess as to what the man was thinking about. Maybe the old Bat was trying to figure out his ID? He really hoped that Batman didn't recognize him. That would not end well. At all.

Dick briefly took his eyes off Batman and looked to the doorway where the mini-league stood. They were watching him with weary eyes and by the glare that was being thrown his way, he could tell that the clone was mad. Dick ignored the glare and focused his attention back onto his arm. Batman was slowly slipping the cuff off, still watching him. It made Nightwing tense -the weird look he was being given. Had he been recognized that easily?

Batman stood up silently and rested his hand on Nightwing's shoulder. Dick felt his muscles tense up, and his instincts were screaming at him to attack. To escape. To eliminate the target. He bit into his lip, forcing himself to relax. Nightwing needed to remain calm and keep a cool head. Nightwing had no reason to fear the Bat. _'But Talon did.'_ But Talon was dead, at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Batman sent a hard glare his way, "I need you to follow me. Try _anything_ and there will be co-" Batman was halted mid-sentence as Superman and Green Arrow burst loudly into the room.

Dick flinched at the entrance, the loud noise hurting his sensitive ears, and whirled his head towards the doorway.

"Wha-" He heard Batman start to ask but Superman ignored him in favor of shouting, "Deathstroke was sighted down in Bludhaven. GA and I went to investigate…" Dick ignored the rest of the conversation in favor of returning to his thoughts. _'What's Deathstroke doing in my city?''_ he pondered. He faintly remembered Hood talking about the mercenary, but he didn't pay to much attention. _'Was he supposed to be in Bludhaven? Maybe he had a meeting with Hood?'_ Dick's thoughts were running wild with questions and half-formed theories when he felt something grab onto his hand.

Nightwing flinched violently, not prepared for the sudden contact. He tried to pry his hand away but that only made the grip on his hand tighten. Dick looked down and saw a bloody hand holding tightly to his. Surprised, he followed the arm to the body and was shocked to see the beaten form of a man. The room around him was silent and his ears could hear each blood droplet hit the floor with a silent 'pat'.

Dick met the man's eyes -as best he could with his mask on- and noticed how they kept going in and out of focus, he was dying. The man squeezed his palm once more before his hand fell out of the grip, limp. Dick curled his hand into a fist and simply watched as Green Arrow rushed to place the man on a bed. _'What was that about?'_ He could feel something hard in his hand that hadn't been there previously. _'What did that guy give me?'_

The man, still staring at Nightwing, gasped out weakly, "Y-you. I **r** ecognize y-you. You **h** elped m-me once. **T** -thank y-you, **m** an."

Dick's eyes widened behind his mask. That man was using code. More importantly, that man was using _Red Hood's_ code. _'Red Hood, Trust Me'_ That's what the message said. _'But what am I supposed to trust?'_

"GA, hurry!" Batman yelled out. "Ms. Martian and Artemis stay here and help Superman, the rest of you follow me!"

"You!" Batman turned sharply and pointed to Nightwing, still sitting on the bed, "Follow me."

* * *

Batman led them out of the chaotic med-bay and into an interrogation room. Maybe now he'd be able to get a read on the kid. He'd noticed that the hero tensed when he'd first approached him. Now, ever the curious man, Bruce wanted to know why.

"Sit," Batman told the hero and pointed to a chair. "The rest of you, out." He turned around and watched the teens go, slamming the door as they left. The room was silent, save for the small wince that sounded from behind him. He whirled around only to find the hero smirking at him, arms crossed over his chest. Batman glared and sat down in front of the kid. Now, how was he going to do this?

"What's your name?" Bruce questioned, deciding to start with something easy. He waited for a few minutes, patiently, might he add, before asking again.

"What is your name?" He spoke, this time with a little more aggression present in his voice.

The hero once again did not reply, he only dragged his hand across the table in a squiggle. Batman watched the motion carefully. What was he doing? What did it mean?

The kid let out an exasperated sigh and dragged his hand through the motion again, this time with a little more effort.

"Do you want to write it down?" He asked carefully, watching the hero's reaction. It was the only logical thing Bruce could come up with.

The kid sat up straight and nodded and Bruce reached into his utility belt and grabbed a paper and pen. He placed them in front of the hero and waited for him to answer. _'Why does he want to write down his answers? Does he think we can analyze his voice?'_ Bruce thought to himself.

"Why?" He asked bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

The kid picked up the pen, scribbled down something and slid the paper to Batman. Bruce glanced down and read the answer allowed.

"Nightwing? Is that who you are?"

The hero nodded, gesturing to himself.

"Okay, Nightwing, why aren't you speaking?"

Nightwing made a face and took back the paper. He put the pen to his chin for a moment before writing again. He slid the paper back to Batman who read it silently.

 _You're the World's Greatest Detective, why don't you tell me?_

Bruce grunted, his frustration with the kid growing ever so slightly.

"I'll ask again. Why. Aren't. You. Speaking?" He questioned, glaring down at the boy.

The kid smirked and scribbled something down.

 _I can't_

Bruce growled, "Can't or won't?"

The kid quickly wrote down his reply, face unusually blank. Batman filed that away for later, talking was a sore spot then.

 _A little bit of both_

"Fine. Now tell me, why have you been hanging out with the Red Hood." Bruce needed to get some real answers now. He wanted to know if this guy could join the Team, or if he had go to jail. He skills could be quite useful on missions. Either option was fine with him, but Bruce preferred the first.

Nightwing smiled brightly and scribbled on the paper, handing it to Batman this time. Bruce didn't miss that either. What changed?

 _He's my friend_

That surprised him, although he didn't let it show. "Your friend? You, a hero, are friends with a mass murdering psychopath?" Batman barked. Maybe if he changed the kids view on his _'friend'_ , he'd be a little more open to conversation.

Nightwing frowned but didn't move to write anything down, so Batman continued, leaning forward. It looks like he found another weak spot.

"Yes, your _friend_ has killed over a _hundred people_ in Gotham alone. What makes you think he's your friend? What makes you think he won't just turn around and kill you when he gets bored? Have you ever thought about that?" Batman demanded, raising his voice slightly with each question he asked.

Nightwing didn't reply for a few minutes, and the ever growing frown on his face was the only indicator towards his mood. Bruce could only guess as to what was going on in the kid's head now. As the silence grew, Batman took this opportunity to really _look_ at the kid.

He had jet black hair that held an almost blue tint, his skin was a little to pale, but it could've just been the fluorescent lighting. He almost looked familiar, but he couldn't be the person Bruce was thinking of. After all, the other guy had been trying to kill him.

The scratch of pen on paper brought Batman from his musings. It seems like Nightwing's made up his mind. Bruce waited patiently for him to slid the paper over once more.

Nightwing looked up at him and the lopsided grin on his face was a little disconcerting. It made Bruce's spine shiver and his instincts scream _'danger.'_ He ignored the feeling for now and focused on the paper in front of him.

 _I have thought about it many, many times. Red Hood won't hurt me, nor would he kill me. Friends don't do that to each other. But that's something you'd never understand. Now, can I go? I have places to be._

Batman reread the note a few times -ignoring the rude comment- before deciding on his next course of action. If he let the kid go, they could follow him back to The Red Hood. But that was a flimsy plan at best. If they kept him here though, Red Hood's hand might be forced…

"No, you'll be staying here at the mountain until further notice." Batman stood up and headed towards the door, "Follow me."

* * *

This was an outrage! And illegal, it had to be illegal somewhere. Batman was keeping him here against his will. That had to violate some kind of law. But it did help Red's plan, so he was pretty okay with it. After all, the saying goes 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'

He followed a few feet behind Batman. He didn't want to get too close to the man. Just being in his presence sent shivers down his spine. Dick really didn't want to know what Batman would do to him if he found out who he was. Would he experiment on him? Find out how long he took in between resurrections? Maybe he'd even freeze him.

No way. He'd rather take his chances with Joker, than have Batman find out. Speaking of Batman, the man had finally stopped walking. He looked up from his feet and glanced around his new surroundings. He was in a large cavern with a couch and television set off to one side. Along the other was a kitchen that connected to some hallway. It was rather empty, except the fact that the couch was currently occupied by the mini-league.

"This," Batman gestured around, "Is where you'll be staying until further notice. The Team will be watching you and will alert me if you try _anything._ I need to go check on Superman, but _I will be back."_ Then with a whoosh of his cape, Batman left the room. Quite dramatic that man was.

Dick didn't know what to do now. The little league was staring at him like he grew two heads, so at least nothing was new. The strange thing was the little Robin that slowly approached him, followed closely by Superboy.

"Hey, Nightwing, right?" Dick nodded and Robin took that as an okay to continue. "You want to come watch a movie with us? We're watching Lion King?" He thought for a moment and weighed his options. _'What's a lion king?'_

Dick did need to wait for Red, but he wasn't good around people. He didn't know how to act. The Court didn't think being able to function in social occasions was important. Dick was going to have to pretend. Pretend that he knew how to act like a normal human being. Man, he hoped Red got here soon.

Nightwing looked to Robin and nodded his head in reply, following them to the couch.

* * *

Not to long into the movie, after Mufasa's death, -which he wasn't prepared for- Red Hood started to call him. Well, mind talk him? What was it called?

 _"Hey, we're in place. Is everything okay over there? They haven't hurt you right?"_ Hood asked roughly.

 _"No. I'm fine. I'm watching Lion King. On a couch. It's weird."_ Dick replied back smoothly. He'd gotten used to talking over this link while in the interrogation room with Batman.

He heard Red chuckle through the mind link, _ "Oh I bet it is. Slade and I are going to get started, so make sure you're ready okay?"_

 _"Okay. See you soon Red."_ He thought back before focusing on the people around him. The Martian was looking at him strangely, but everything else was fine. Nobody suspected anything yet. Dick just tilted his head at her, confused, he didn't want her getting suspicious of him already. Red's plan hadn't even started yet.

 _"Hey Birdie?" _ He heard Red ask a few minutes later, although Dick made sure his face remained blank.

 _"Yeah?" _ Dick sent back. Did something go wrong?

 _"Call me Jason."_

* * *

 **I'm back! As I have said before, the reason I was gone for so long was because my laptop broke. I had to wait until Christmas to get a new one.**

 **I hope you all can forgive me!**

 **What did you think of the chapter? Any favorite parts? Let me know in the comments below! I'd love to hear from you!**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	8. A Life's Worth

The room was silent as the movie continued to play, everyone's attention focused solely on the T.V. Dick didn't understand what was so entertaining, after all, what was the point of watching a fake lion sing and dance its way through life? So, instead of watching the movie, Dick focused his attention on the people around him. Every couple of minutes, four to be exact, Superboy would glance in his direction. Every five minutes, Robin would change his position on the couch. Every minute or so, the green girl would send him a puzzled look. It was quite boring honestly.

He looked to Robin when the boy shuffled again. What made him choose that name? It's not very intimidating, so it must be a personal reason. Pet name perhaps? Dick tilted his head, why were they even watching a movie? Shouldn't they be out doing hero things? He reached into the pouch on his thigh, grabbing paper and pencil, and wrote down his question.

Should he ask though? The Court never let him ask. He wasn't supposed to ask. Dick messed with the pad in his hand, debating silently, drawing the attention of the young heroes around him.

"Nightwing? You okay?" Superboy inquired, turning to face him.

Nightwing snapped his head up, staring into Superboy's face for a moment. Well, what did he have to lose? It's not like they could take his life away. Right? He glanced at his notebook again before handing it to Kid Flash, who was sitting next to him.

"Why are you guys watching a movie instead of patrolling?" Kid Flash read aloud, handing the notebook back after reading.

Surprisingly, it was Robin that spoke up, "Because we're a covert team. We run the missions that Batman and the League gives us, although we do patrol separately with our mentors," he finished.

Dick though for a moment and began to scribble out his reply. Although he'd deny that Batman's voice made him jump.

"Nightwing!"

Dick jumped _-no he didn't-_ in his chair, swinging his head to look at Batman as he walked towards the group.

Nightwing tilted his head and gave his best confused expression. His practice in front of the mirror finally being put to the test.

"What do you know of the Light?" Batman asked, well, demanded.

Nightwing shook his head. He honestly didn't know what Batman was talking about. The Light? Who would call themselves that?

 _"Re- Jason. Do you know what The Light is? Batman's asking about it,"_ Dick thought quickly. Hopefully Red _-no, not Red-_ Jason, would answer him.

Batman started speaking again, "The Light is a group of criminals that we've been tracking lately, and according to Deathstroke's latest victim, Deathstroke is now part of that group."

Okay. But what did this have to do with Dick? As far as he knew, the Court didn't deal with other groups. So what did Batman want?

 _"No I don't, let me ask Slade real quick. He always seems to know these things,"_ Jason's voice exploded in Dick's mind, almost causing him to flinch.

 _"Okay."_

Nightwing flipped to a clean page and wrote his question -what did this have to do with him- and threw the pad at Batman afterwards.

"Superman and I wanted to know if you've heard anything about them. Has Red Hood mentioned them to you?" Batman replied as Superman walked into the room.

"We're also looking for someone to go undercover and infiltrate them," Superman finished, interrupting Batman who threw the pad back to Nightwing after reading it.

Nightwing started writing again. No, Jason hasn't said anything, yes, he knew someone that could infiltrate. _Talon._ After all, that's what he was trained to do, but they wouldn't know that.

As he handed the pad to Superman, who had taken to standing in front of the T.V, Megann spoke up.

"Infiltrate? Why are you asking him? Isn't that what this team is supposed to do?"

Batman grunted and crossed his arms, "Yes, that is what your team is meant to do, however, we can only send in one person and Nightwing seems to have more stealth training than all of you," He then turned to face Nightwing as Superman read his answer aloud.

"He says he knows someone that would be able to infiltrate, but Red Hood hasn't said anything," Superman recited, giving back the paper.

"Who," Batman all but demanded, inching closer to the still seated group of teens.

Nightwing smirked deviously and pointed a thumb to his chest.

* * *

Jason's plan was simple. Get in, get Nightwing, and get out. The only difficult thing about it was actually pulling it off. Now, he wasn't an idiot, he knew the risks that came with this mission. Injury, possible capture, and a one way trip to Arkham Asylum. But Jason didn't care. He'd told his friend he was coming, and he wasn't about to go back on his word.

Jason waved to Deathstroke, who was crouched across from him in the alleyway. Thanks to Slade's informants, they'd managed to track down one of the Leagues zeta entrances in Gotham. It wasn't much, just an old blue phone booth -it reminded him of Doctor Who- but it would have to do. They were short on time after all.

Jason watched as Deathstroke entered the booth, typing a long list of numbers into the dialpad. This would allow him to enter the base unannounced -hopefully. He turned his back to the man and faced the alley's entrance, gun hanging loosely in his hands. It wouldn't be good if they got caught before the plan even started.

"Okay kid, whenever you're ready." Deathstroke announced, "I'll be waiting for you at the rendezvous point. Do not be late." He explained, stepping out of the phone booth.

Red Hood turned around and put his gun away, "Thanks man. If this thing goes well, I'll owe you one."

Deathstroke chuckled lightly, "Kid, you owe me one anyway."

Red Hood shook his head, amused, "Yeah, yeah. I know," he admitted, walking into the booth, "Wasn't it Lazarus?"

"Jason."

Red Hood glanced over his shoulder, "Sorry," Jason paused briefly, "Hey do you know anything about The Light?"

Deathstroke hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yeah, I just joined them, why?"

"Nightwing just asked. Apparently Batman's asking him about them. What should I tell him?"

"Nothing for now," Deathstroke hummed, "Not if the Bats asking. And Jason?"

"Yeah?" he spoke, turning back towards the buttons.

"Don't be late."

* * *

"Oh really? And how would you infiltrate them?" Superboy sneered, "You can't join as Nightwing."

Dick wanted to punch him, he really did. Of course he wouldn't enter as Nightwing, he'd have to go as _Talon._ Pretend to represent the Court.

 _"I'm in. Where are you?" _ Jason asked mentally, sounding slightly out of breath.

Dick threw a crumpled ball of paper at Superboy. _"I think I'm in the main cavern. Batman's here along with Superman and the mini league."_ He thought back as Superboy read the note.

"What do you mean you have another name you can go by?"

"What he means is that he'll create another persona, isn't that right Nightwing?" Batman interrupted, eyeing Dick carefully.

Nightwing nodded and prayed they wouldn't ask for the name. Anything but the name.

 _"Hey I'm in the hall, I'll shoot Kid Flash in the leg as a distraction. Be ready."_ Jason's voiced popped back up. Shoot Kid Flash? Okay. Dick shifted his stance slightly, only enough to make it easier to run. Although Batman seemed to have noticed this because he looked at Dick funny and opened his mouth to speak.

"Night-" However, he was cut off by Kid Flash crying out and collapsing to the floor, clutching his leg in pain.

Everyone's attention turned towards the hall entrance, where Red Hood was sauntering out casually, like he hadn't just shot a bullet through Kid Flashes leg. Dick smirked slightly, although he wouldn't admit it, at his friends lazy attitude.

"Well, well, well," Red Hood began, "I'm sorry to say this, but I need to break up this little play date," Jason finished, walking towards Nightwing slowly.

"No."

* * *

Jason kept up his slow walk towards Nightwing as he replied, "Aww, why do you have to be like that Bats? I'm only here to pick up my friend. You can't keep him here," Jason paused, "That is kidnapping after all." He stopped walking, now standing firmly at Nightwing's side.

"Red Hood," Superman boomed, "How did you get in here?" he questioned.

Jason sighed, "I've already told you, I'm picking up Nightwing," He waived his gun around aimlessly.

Batman sunk into a defensive stance and drew a batarang, "I'm afraid you won't be leaving just yet. My discussion with Nightwing has yet to finish."

Jason put a hand to his chin, "Hmm, no. We're done here," He raised his gun and took a shot at Batman who, predictably, moved out of the way. He knew the bullet wouldn't do anything against Superman, and he wasn't about to kill some kids.

 _"Jay!"_

Aqualad, who had been silent until now, took a few steps towards Nightwing and Red Hood, "My friends, I'm sure we can work this out. Please, calm down," He suggested, however, he was still holding tightly to the handles of his water bearers. The rest of the mini league each took their own stances behind Aqualad.

Jason risked a glance behind him to check on Nightwing, finding him crouched lowly and holding his escrima. Looks like they'd fight their way out.

"Son," Superman started, "Don't do this. You can't win."

Red Hood snorted, "You're not my dad, so don't tell me what to do," And he lunged forward.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! Yes this chapter is short. But...I'll post the other half tomorrow. I figured you'd want something rather than nothing. I have literally had the worst writers block during this chapter. I restated it like, five times.**

 **Anyway, what did you think of this? Leave any comments down below. And again, I apologize for the wait! It bugs the heck out of me that I wasn't able to make this chapter longer, but then next one is going to be A LOT better. Trust me.**

 **So, leave some comments about where you think I'm heading with this. I want to hear from you guys. You can even say that you're mad about my EXTREMELY late update...**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**

 **(P.S. I've recently gotten the idea for a cool AU. If you'd like to hear more about it, or if you want me to post it, let me know) :)**


	9. A Lone Feather

_"Jay, wait. I have an idea."_

Being the person that he was, Jason ignored Nightwing for a moment in favor of dodging a blow from Superman. He wasn't trying to be rude, he just needed to get his priorities straight.

 _"What's the idea? Will it keep us from getting out skulls bashed in?"_ Jason asked sarcastically, twisting out of the path of an arrow.

 _"I need you to tell Batman something."_ Nightwing gritted out, and Jason looked over to seem him mid-flip, dodging Superboy.

 _"Yeah, sure. What is it?"_ Jason asked, dodging the bow staff of Robin, and hitting a pressure point on the back of his neck. One down, too many more to go.

 _"Tell him that if he lets us go, we can gather information about the Light for him!"_ Nightwing sent quickly, and Jason heard a small yelp from behind him. Two down.

"Batman, I have a proposition to make," Red Hood announced, fighting his way towards the black clad man.

"What it is?" Batman grit out, throwing a kick to Red Hoods head, missing.

"If you let Wing and I go, we _might_ know how to get some information on the Light for you." Jason hinted, and Batman stopped attacking for a moment.

"Might? I want a guarantee. And I'd need to be able to contact you," he spoke, head tilting towards the raging battle behind them.

"Fine. We _will_ get the information to you, and I can give you a comm to contact us. Is that enough?" Jason added sarcastically. This man was too much.

Batman stared at him for a moment, and Jason was starting to wonder if something was stuck on his helmet.

"How old are the both of you?" Batman finally asked, still ignoring the ongoing battle.

Red Hood froze for a second, not expecting that question, "Old enough," he replied, a hint of anger coming out of his helmet, "Now, do you want to shake on it or something?" Jason drawled, shifting his weight to a more relaxed position.

Jason was just about to reach Batman's hand with his own when he felt a sudden burning pain in his side.

Eyes widening underneath his mask, Jason grabbed at his side with his hand, stumbling back a bit. Something smelled, and it wasn't his jacket this time. He fumbled a bit more, looking for the cause of the pain, and finally collapsed onto the tile. Somewhere in his newfound haze of pain, Jason swore he heard someone scream something, sounding rather raw if he focused a bit more. Jason wasn't able to think much on it, as the approaching numbness soon took him into her sweet embrace.

* * *

"NO!"

Someone yelled. _Someone screamed._ He wasn't sure who, because he was too busy watching his _only friend_ collapse onto the floor.

"No," a weak voice, cracking and raw, whimpered at the fallen body.

His throat hurt, burned more like. Was it him? Was he the one that screamed? Dick thought he'd forgotten how, it must've been someone else. He ignored the shocked expressions as he rushed towards Red Hood's fallen body.

He knelt down at Jason's side and placed his hands over the wound, applying pressure. Something was starting to block his vision, making his sight blurry and unfocused. What was it? He wanted to take his mask off, had something gotten underneath during the battle? He tore his eyes away from Jason's bloody side and sent a chilling glare at Superman.

"You!"

There it was again. That raw and cracking, misused and beaten, weak voice. Only this time, it was filled with anger and hate, underlined by worry and shock. It must've been him, he hadn't seen anyone's mouth move this time. It _was_ him.

Dick wanted to kill him, his redemption be damned. Dick wanted to rush ahead and slice Superman's throat, watch him bleed out on the floor. He wanted to _kill_ him.

Superman _burned_ Jason. He lost control of his heat vision and _burned a hole through Jason._

A weak cough from below was the only thing that stopped him from attacking. Dick looked down at his hands, the blood was just barely seeping through his fingers, slipping silently onto the white tile.

If Jay died, Superman would too, Dick decided. It was only fair. A life for a life, after all, that's what the Court would do.

"Nightwing, let me have a look at him," Superman started, inching closer to the spot where Dick was kneeling.

Nightwing growled, low and threatening, raising himself to the balls of his feet. He removed one hand from Red Hood's side and grabbed some gauze from his belt. Just because he didn't need it, doesn't mean he shouldn't carry it.

Superman stopped his approach, raising his hands to show he meant no harm.

"Nightwing," Batman tried, keeping his voice calm and even, as if he were talking to a cornered wild animal. Dick whipped his head towards the man at the sound of his voice, "We need to take a look at him. He might die if we don't," Batman tried to argue.

Nightwing growled again, his unusually pointed canines on full display. He stuffed the gauze into Jason's wound, which was barely bleeding now, and started searching his belt. He had to have some sort of device he could call someone on. Jason had to have some kind of way out.

There! Nightwing grabbed the small half black and orange device, pressing the only button on it. He grabbed one of Jason's arms, throwing it over his head, before grabbing a leg.

"Nightwing don't! It'll make the wound worse!" Superman tried again, approaching Nightwing steadily.

"No!" Nightwing rasped, standing firmly with Red Hood thrown over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

Jason was a lot heavier than Dick had expected, and he struggled a bit to get him on his shoulders. But he did. They were going to leave, and if Jason died, Superman would too. The Court had taught him how.

Nightwing started walking forwards, a destination set firmly in his mind. Those tube things. That must be how Jay got in, so it must also be the way out.

"My friend, please let us help!" Aqualad said, blocking Nightwing's path.

Nightwing shifted Red Hood around, holding his arm and leg in one hand, freeing the other, and opened his stance. Dick shook his head, and lashed out a well timed kick into Aqualad's side. The attack was swift and brutal, more Talon than Nightwing. Aqualad gasped and dropped onto the ground, holding his side.

Nightwing kept walking and watched Batman hold out an arm, blocking Superman from following.

"Are we really just going to let them go!?" Artemis screeched, and Dick wanted to cover his ears. God was her voice was annoying. He could see Superboy wince from the pitch as well. At least he was smart, keeping his distance from Nightwing.

"Yes," Batman replied, and Dick paused, risking a glance at the man.

Dick started to get an uneasy feeling in his gut. It's that feeling you get when you hear something you don't want to, and your stomach just drops and you feel sick. That feeling that makes you want to run away and hide, isolate yourself from everyone. That's how he felt when he looked back at Batman. But, he had to keep going, and that's what he did.

But, the feeling that Batman _knew_ something never left.

* * *

His arms and legs were burning as he ran through the darkened alley. They had escaped, but Jason was still really heavy. Nightwing stopped running for a moment and leaned up against the wall. He'd have to find somewhere to hide out soon. Dick knew that the Court had a few abandoned safe-houses hidden throughout Gotham, all he had to do was find one.

A thunk from behind had Dick ducking to dodge the edge of a sword -the weapon just barley missing his head. The sword that belonged to a large -more like massive- man. The man was dressed heavily in armor, painted orange and black, and was staring at Nightwing with a critical eye.

"Are you Nightwing?" The man asked, removing his sword from where it got stuck in the brick.

Nightwing nodded and moved to stand but instead, his left leg gave out and he fell to his knees. Dick tried to stand again, but was met with the same result. He couldn't do it, Jay was too heavy.

"Let me take him," The man offered, already grabbing at Red Hood.

Dick nodded again and was finally able to stand without the excess weight.

"What happened?" The man asked, once he had gotten Jason situated on his shoulders.

Dick shook his head and pointed to the man, hoping to get his name. The man seemed to have understood, and curtly replied, "Deathstroke," before walking forward.

"Follow me, I have a safehouse a few blocks away. We can talk there. Are you hurt?" Deathstroke asked, scanning Dick from head to toe.

Nightwing shook his head. He didn't think he was injured and if he was, it'd be healed soon anyway. He followed Deathstroke, sticking close to the man. Dick had a feeling that if he lost sight of him, he wouldn't be able to find him again.

They'd been walking for a good ten minutes before Dick saw anything alarming. He hadn't even been looking for it. It was just there, floating innocently on a small puddle in the alley. Any normal passerby wouldn't have even spared it a second glance, but Dick was the furthest thing from normal.

"Kid? Are you okay?"

And Dick looked up, Deathstroke was looking at him from the entrance of the alley, already turning to leave. He hadn't realized that he'd stopped walking. Dick spared Deathstroke another glance before looking down at the puddle again.

It was still there. He hadn't imagined it. This was bad, they knew where he was. Who he had become, unless they were after Deathstroke, which was highly unlikely. Dick hadn't seen the man's name on any list he'd ever gotten.

"Kid," And Dick looked up again, "We've got to go now, come on."

And Dick went, he left it there. He left it there even as the faint memory of a woman's laugh echoed in his brain.

He left it there, the small, white feather of an owl.

* * *

 _-Flashback-_

"My little Robin," a honeyed voice whispered into frozen air, "Come, let me show you something."

 _One for sorrow,_

Hearing his Mother's call, the young boy ran over, plopping down beside her. The hill they sat upon wasn't far from the main tent, but is was still a ways away. Far enough that the rattling cages and laughing people could barely be heard, but close enough to still be seen.

 _Two for mirth,_

The young boy looked excitedly up at his Mother, a wide grin plastered onto his face, "What is it?" He asked.

"Do you see those birds over there?" the woman replied, pointing out to a group of large black birds resting in the grass.

 _Three for a funeral,_

The boy squinted his eyes and leaned forward, "Yes! What kind are they?" He asked, voice thick with an accent. After all, English wasn't his first language.

"That's what I'm going to tell you, Little Bird," She ruffled his hair, chuckling lightly, "Now, scoot closer and listen well." She told as the boy moved close, resting against her side.

 _And four for a birth,_

"Yes Mama."

 _Five for Heaven,_

"Now, those are crows," she started softly, "Did you know there is a rhyme to help you count them?" The woman asked, smiling brightly at the boy. Her eyes focused intently on his face for a moment, memorizing it. They didn't have much longer, after all, tonight's the night.

 _Six for Hell,_

The boy looked back to the crows, a thoughtful expression on his face, "No...but what's that one, Mama?" He pointed a finger to the large white bird hidden within the others.

 _And seven for a secret never to be told,_

The woman looked for a moment, her face going pale, "It's an owl."

 _Eight for a wish,_

The child nodded his head vigorously, "Of course, Mama! But why's the owl with the crows?"

 _Nine for a kiss,_

Looking back to the birds, the woman pondered for a moment, her eyes unfocused, almost staring past the group of birds, "Maybe they're friends, or maybe he's telling them something."

 _Ten for a bird, you must not miss._

 _-Flashback end-_

* * *

 **Okay everyone! Here's the next chapter. This one was much easier to write, so I think it's safe to say that my writes block has passed. Yay! The AU will be mentioned after the comments.**

 **I feel like I should mention a few people that left some comments. So here are a few:**

 **Fireshifter -Thank you for always commenting. I'm happy that you're enjoying the story!**

 **AndAnotherOneBitesTheDust -Nice name. Also, I've noticed that you've commented on a few of my stories. Thanks! Try not to break your keyboard! I'm glad its tough. I also really enjoy reading the paragraphs you leave. They help motivate me to write.**

 **Milefanis Zorella -Now, I know you leave your comments in Spanish, but I think it's great that you take the time to comment. I've noticed that you've left a comment on every chapter so far! Thank You!**

 **Now onto the AU idea that I hinted at last chapter. I've decided to call the story "The Flying Trapeze" although I may change the name before I post it. I'm still not sure if it fits the tone of the story yet. Since I can't think of a summary right now, I've decided to add the first paragraph of the story here for you all to read, and hopefully enjoy. Let me know what you think of it and if you would like to read the story, or at least the first chapter.**

 **Sorry for such a long note,**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**

 **AU: The Flying Trapeze**

 **Paragraph One:**

Gotham was a terrible city when someone laughed on its street late at night. The sound would bounce and curl, twist and corrupt. Although, it was different for each laugh. Some hinted at things to come, and others, things of the past. Now, there was one laugh that Gotham had grown particularly fond of. Hidden in the midst of tragedy and pain, this laugh made a name for itself. Forcing young gang members to scatter, because they knew territory didn't matter to _him_ , it never did. Sometimes, the laughter could be heard for miles, an eerie cackle that would worm its way into every crack and crevice that Gotham could offer. The laugh of a young Robin.


	10. A Mother's Love

_"We do what we must for those we care for, even if it means sacrificing ourselves to do it." -Me_

Mary Grayson was a beautiful woman. She held such a natural talent for the spotlight, that any room became _her_ room the moment she stepped into it. Her grace was unrivaled. The slow, seductive sway of her hips as she walked, the careful distribution of weight through her muscled legs and out to her feet. Unrivaled and unmatched. The way she cared for her child, that unwavering gaze, filled to the brim with as much love a mother could give. Mary Grayson was a beautiful woman, but only on the outside. Inside, Mary Grayson was angry and scared. Guilty of what she had done, and what she still needed to do. But this fact was know to little, that's why, when the Grayson's fell, nobody ever expected it to be out of love.

* * *

Mary Grayson, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, knew her son was going to die, and that it would be her fault. It was his purpose. It was the reason she carried him in her womb for nine months. Her son had to die in order to live, and she was content with that. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

"Mami, when can I fly with you and Dad?" He little child, Dick, asked, looking up at her with bright, happy eyes. He was so small. Much smaller than other kids his age. He was hers, her Little Robin.

"Soon Dickie. What about tonight? It is opening night after all. Don't you think we should give Gotham a little present?" She cooed, reaching down to pick Dick up and set him on her lap, "Wouldn't that be exciting?" She smiled.

Mary Grayson might have been angry inside, but everyone had a soft spot, and Dick was hers.

"Really!" His face lit up in excitement and he smiled brightly, "Can I? I've been practicing everyday! I know I can do it!" He rambled, squirming with excitement.

"I know, I've seen how hard you've been working, and Dad has too. That's why we agreed to let you fly with us tonight," Mary explained, though her voice sounded almost solemn in a way, "Do you want to fly with us tonight?"

"Yes! It's going to be so much fun! Can I go tell Raya Mami? Can I?" Dick squealed, nearly bursting with excitement.

"Of course you can. Why don't you show her the routine too," Mary suggested as Dick hopped down from her lap, bouncing lightly on his feet.

"Okay Mami! Bye," he yelled, cartwheeling away from his mother.

"Goodbye, my Little Robin," Mary whispered, watching her son's back fade into the distance.

Once Dick could no longer be seen, Mary rose gracefully from her seat and made her way towards the back of the trailer cars, taking the same route as last night. Today's the day.

"Father, I know you're there. What do you want?" She asked, her voice no longer the sound of honey. Instead, it was cold. Dead.

A figure moved out of the shadows, "I'm here, my child, to make sure you are still following the plan," he spoke.

Mary growled harshly, "You doubt me? After all I've done for you?" She hissed, stepping towards the figure.

"No, no, I don't doubt you," the figure spoke, walking forward slightly, the different ornaments he wore tinkling as he moved, "I'm merely here to judge your resolve. You know how much the Court hates failure," He reprimanded.

"Of course Father. Everything is in order. Richard will fly with us tonight," Mary replied coolly.

"Good. Now, let us celebrate later, for tonight, Gotham shall claim _her_ Gray Son," He added, raising his palm to the sky.

* * *

It was almost time. Soon she'd celebrate with _William Cobb,_ her Father. She'd celebrate the death of her son. _Her_ son, not Gotham's. But could she? Richard was good and pure. He was everything she wasn't. Dick looked so much like her, and yet, was more like his father. Kind, honest, dependable.

No, she wouldn't celebrate. She'd mourn. She'd mourn the loss of an innocent soul, destined to become a monster. What kind of mother would allow that to happen? To her only child nonetheless.

Everything was in place. It's not like Mary could _stop_ it from happening. Nothing could stop the Court from getting her son. It was in his blood. But maybe, maybe she could delay it. The Court could take her instead. All she had to do was switch a few ropes.

* * *

"MAMI!" She heard him scream. Everything was moving in slow motion, yet all she could focus on was Dick's face. She felt John latch onto her, covering her body with his, but she knew it wouldn't help. They were to high up.

"DICK!" Mary yelled back, stretching her arm out wide. Dick's fingers brushed against hers, nearly causing him to fall as well. Tears had already begun to well up in his eyes. He knew what happened next.

Mary relaxed, and let the weightlessness take over her, allowing gravity it's final trick. And even though he was getting smaller and smaller, she kept her eyes locked with Dick's. It was the only thing she could do to comfort him.

John tightened his grip around her and Mary saw the fear in his eyes. He didn't want to die, and Mary was robbing him of life. How cruel. It was the only way. The only way to keep Dick safe.

How ironic, she could see the news headers now, "The Flying Grayson's fall in the Flight of Death."

"I'm sorry," She whispered into her husband's ear, "It was the only way."

She had to die in order for her son to live.

* * *

 _"A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path." -Agatha Christie_

* * *

 **Hello everyone! If you have't realized it yet, this chapter ties in with the first one! Yes, I did a loop thing. I only wrote this because it plays an important part later on in the story.**

 **What did you think of it? Did you like how it was in Mary's POV? Did that surprise you? Let me know in the comments below! (Heh, that rhymed)**

 **Hmm, I don't really know what to say know. I'm going to update again before Monday, and I'll explain why after. Let's just say there will be a chapter labeled 'IMPORTANT INFORMATION' popping up in the next few days.**

 **I HIGHLY suggest that you read it.**

 **It's REALLY, REALLY important.**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	11. We Do What We Must

" _We do what we must for those we care for, even if it means sacrificing ourselves to do it." -Me_

Mary Grayson was a beautiful woman. She held such a natural talent for the spotlight, that any room became _her_ room the moment she step foot into it. Her grace was unrivaled. The slow, seductive sway of her hips as she walked, the careful distribution of weight to her feet. _Unrivaled._ The way she cared for her child, that unwavering gaze, filled to the brim with as much love a mother could give. _Willing to give_. Playing hide-and-seek around the circus tents and baking cookies. The perfect Mother.

Mary Grayson was a beautiful woman, but only on the outside. Inside, Mary Grayson could rival Lucifer himself. Her wicked and cruel nature remained hidden to most, only her husband and Pop Haley knew the whole truth. And no matter how much Mary wanted to change, to do better, the apple never really falls far from the tree, does it?

* * *

There was something off about the way the kid moved, Deathstroke decided after they'd made it to his safe house. The kid didn't walk like some of the heroes he'd fought before. His gait held something more... _predatory._ Something that Slade recognized, but didn't _know_. It was rather frustrating, however, it wasn't the only weird thing about him.

The way he loomed over Slade's shoulders while he rushed to fix Jason was a little odd, although, he could've just been concerned. The way he tilted his head and shuffled his feet made Slade's brain scream out in _warning._ It's like he was always anticipating an attack. It's the little things, the tiny, minuscule details that nobody ever notices. Those are the things that can tell you everything you want to know about a person. Those are the things you need to watch out for.

Slade grabbed another wad of combat gauze as he attempted to staunch the bleeding. Jason's wound looked a lot worse than it actually was, thankfully. He nodded his head back, towards Nightwing, motioning for him to approach. He had to kick him out earlier, the kid's rapid pacing -no matter how quiet it was- had gotten rather annoying.

"Can you grab the sterile needle and thread for me? They're under the coffee table," Deathstroke half asked, half commanded.

Nightwing nodded his head after an awkward moment of staring, and grabbed the supplies as instructed. Slade held his hand out, patiently waiting, and got to work quickly after Nightwing handed him the items.

Slade glanced back when he heard the familiar shuffle- the one he'd grown to recognize these past few hours- move behind him. "Calm down kid, Jason's going to be fine. He's strong," Slade spoke and turned around, finding only that the kid was gone. Gone as in, no longer in the building. Sighing, Slade rolled his shoulders and focused back onto Jason, pulling another stitch. At least it would be quieter.

* * *

He couldn't take it anymore, watching Deathstroke try to fix Jason. He hated how he _couldn't do anything._ Useless, that was it, he felt useless. Dick couldn't even think of a time when he'd been this useless. The Court always had something for him to do, to keep him busy. They were _always_ keeping him busy, and when he wasn't busy, he was frozen. A rather simple concept to grasp.

When Deathstroke asked for something, for a second, Dick tried to reply. Tried to use his newly found voice to _actually answer,_ but it didn't work. Instead, his throat tightened up and his mouth became as dry as a desert. His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, and his breathing might've become a bit hard. Any words that he'd wanted to say died before they'd even started. He couldn't speak. _And maybe he never could._

Giving up on his voice, Dick nodded to Deathstroke and handed him the items, walking back towards the wall. It'd been three hours since Jason fell unconscious. Shouldn't he be waking up soon? Shouldn't he have woken up already? Dick let himself fall into a fast pace, walking between the couch and the wall. _Useless._ The Court would have frozen him for something like this, this...failure. Jason should've gotten out of there unharmed. If only he'd taken Superman out faster. Maybe if he'd never gotten captured in the first place, Jason would be fine. Maybe Dick should've been the one to get hurt. At least he would come back if he died. Jason wouldn't.

He needed air. Dick needed to clear his head and come up with a plan. Maybe he won't be as useless then. After all, they'd just made a deal with Batman.

* * *

He was cold as he flew across the Gotham rooftops. It wasn't so much as the chilled to the bone kind of cold, more like the numbing kind. The kind that made you stop shivering and just forget. The kind that made Dick forget how useless he'd become.

Dick paused on a lone rooftop and quickly surveyed the area. Batman probably wasn't out patrolling so soon after the fight at the mountain -at least Dick hoped he wasn't. It wouldn't do him any good to get caught by the Bat while collecting his old...uniform. He had to be careful. His plan -not a very good one, but a plan nonetheless- was to use Talon to infiltrate the Light. It shouldn't be too hard considering Dick's uniform had enough gold ornaments and tassels to show he's of higher rank. And, if they need proof of him being a Talon, they could look at his skin or kill him. The only difficult thing was actually getting invited to the Light.

Dick slipped down the side of his building, crawling in through a broken window, and walked towards the center of the room. His warehouse. Crouching down, he felt the floor with his fingers, looking for the frame of his hidey-hole. Finding it, Dick removed the top, reached down, and pulled out an old wooden chest. Putting the top back on, he tugged the chest away and opened it slowly. This is it. His entire life. The life he'd tried to leave behind. Was it really worth it? Doing this for Batman and possibly getting back on the Courts radar? Was it?

Dick's chest -his life- contained his old Talon uniform, all his knifes, and his carefully decorated katanas. Dick was the Talon, and the Court wanted everyone to know that by just looking at him.

Dick sighed and threw the katanas over his back and slung his knives across his chest. The suit, he carefully folded and held close to his chest. Nightwing shouldn't be seen leaving with this. Not with the Court was always watching.

It didn't take long for Dick to make it back to Deathstroke's safe house. Apparently it was only a few blocks away, something he hadn't noticed initially. _Stupid._

* * *

Dick walked hesitantly into the main room where Deathstroke hovered over Jason. He wasn't poking and prodding, nor was he stitching. He was simply just staring. Maybe Jason had woken up?

Dick walked up beside the man and waited patiently for a few moments, hoping that his presence would cause Deathstroke to speak.

It didn't. It didn't even look like Deathstroke knew he was there, so Dick did something stupid. He poked him. Right in the ribs.

Deathstroke jolted back, "What the fu- Oh it's you," he half shouted, lowering the pistol he'd pulled.

Dick pointed down to Jason and tilted his head to the side.

"Oh Jason. He should be fine, the wound wasn't as bad as it looked. In fact he should be waking up soon," Deathstroke said casually and took a seat on the adjacent couch, leaving Dick to stand alone. "What are you holding?"

Dick tilted his head again, looking away, and let his uniform unravel in his arms, displaying it for the mercenary. Hopefully he didn't try to attack Dick when he recognized it.

Deathstroke was silent for a few moments before he stood up again, only this time, it was in a defensive stance. "Is that what I think it is?" He asked, pointing to the black suit.

Not knowing what else to do, Dick nodded his head cautiously and readied himself. No matter how much Jason cared for the man, Dick would defend himself.

"Does Jason know?"

Dick froze. No Jason doesn't know. He was never supposed to know. It would scare him away, and Dick would become a monster again. A societal reject with no friends. No, Jason doesn't know. Jason wouldn't know.

"Does Jason know?" Deathstroke asked again, raising his voice loudly, moving his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"Does Jason know what?"

* * *

 **Hey everyone! I'm alive! Yes, this chapter is short, but, it marks my return to writing. Yay!**

 **What did you think of this chapter? Did you like it? Any favorite part? Quote? Let me know and leave a comment. The reply doesn't even have to be about the chapter. It could just be a hello and welcome back. idk.**

 **Welp, I think I'll leave it at this. I need to wake up early tomorrow for a briefing. *sigh***

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	12. Like A Puppet

" _And whosoever shed man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." -The Boondock Saints_

"Does Jason know what?" He rasped, sitting up slowly, the movement tugging slightly at his new stitches.

Nightwing and Deathstroke were staring at each other, weapons partially drawn and ready to attack. Deathstroke looked calm, but angry, and Nightwing was looking rather terrified.

Jason stood, but not fully, and placed a hand over his side, "What's going on?" He growled, looking between his two friends.

Nightwing shook his head, shuffling the clothing in his hands, its bright gold ornaments briefly catching Jason's eye, before he focused on Slade. Deathstroke, it seems, moved, finally drawing his sword, and pointed towards the hero, "Well, Nightwing, now that _Jason's_ awake, why don't you tell him what you _really_ are," He said, eyeing the young man carefully. This _thing_ was not to be trifled with.

Confused, Jason asked, "What's he talking about Wing?" Jason studied the cloth in Nightwing's hands a bit more, looking for answers, but receiving none. It looked like it was a uniform of some kind, but it was too bunched up to tell. "What's that you're holding?"

Nightwing shook his head rapidly, glancing from Jason to the tip of Slade's sword, nervous, and took a step back. He drew a small throwing knife from his gauntlet, and held it in front of himself, defensively.

"Birdie?"

Deathstroke suddenly lunged at Nightwing, catching his move to escape before Jason had even seen it. Snagging Nightwing and knocking the blade from his hand, Slade held him tightly and placed the sword against Wing's neck, making sure he didn't apply to much pressure, _yet._

"Slade, fucking stop! What the hell are doing? Let him go!" Jason roared, conveniently grabbing a gun from the coffee table as he moved towards the duo. He kept the gun aimed at the floor, hoping he could talk Slade down before it came to shots. What the fuck was going on? What had he missed?

Slade huffed, "No. I can't do that. You don't know what this _Monster_ is capable of," He spat, a sneer spreading across his lips, "I'd be doing you a favor by killing it now," He added, slicing a thin strip along Wing's neck. Blood started to well up around the blade, but it wasn't red. It was more of a faint blue. "I've tangled with _his kind_ before," He gestured at Wing with his head, "It never ends well."

Jason brought up his gun,finally, pointing it as Slade. He wasn't going to be able to talk him out of this one. "What do you mean? He's not a monster and I trust him with my life! Let him go or I will shoot you Slade." This was not going well, Jason thought. One wrong move and Wing was dead, "What do you mean ' _his kind'_?

"He's not your friend," Slade reached his hand up and gripped the edge of Nightwing's mask, causing him to thrash wildly in his hold, "He's not human, and I'll show you," He spoke, ripping the mask of Nightwing's face, revealing his eerie yellow eyes, now filling with tears. Nightwing made whining noises and slammed his eyes shut, not willing to let Jason see them any longer.

Jason didn't react right away, too busy taking in his friends strange features. Why were his eyes like that? What happened to him? Why was he so scared to let Jason see?

"Let him go Slade. Now," Jason spoke again, and Nightwing dropped the fabric to the floor with a 'clank,' trembling lightly in Slade's grasp.

"I'm sorry Jason, but I can't do that," Slade shook his head sadly, "He's a _Talon_ , and I will not allow _it_ to run around unchained any longer," Slade -no, Deathstroke said, "It must be put down, like the dog it is," and with that, he dragged his blade across Wing's throat, slowly -brutality- efficiently slicing through the skin, leaving a deep gash as blood began to coat the blade. Wing started choking and coughing blood out of his mouth, staining his white skin dark.

Jason screamed and lunged forward as Deathstroke tossed Wing's body aside like a rag-doll, blood spraying with the fallen body. _No._ This wasn't supposed to happen. Slade was going to help him save Wing, not kill him. What had he done? Bringing that man back here? What had he done?

Slade moved to make his escape, yelling back as he did, "Remember earlier when you said you owed me?" He shouted, dodging Jason's bullets, "Consider that debt paid."

Jason roared in anger, firing round after round at the man's retreating form. Jason's vision was overtaken with red, but a pained grunt let him know that at least one of his bullets had hit home. Good.

Deathstroke slipped out through a back room, and Jason, still too injured to give chase, fired a few shots after him before returning to Wing's body, seething.

Collapsing beside him, any anger Jason had dissipated as he watched Wing lie there, gasping and choking on deep, blue blood. His eyes were frantic and unfocused, searching for something that Jason couldn't see, and probably never would. He bit his lip and brought his hands to Wing's throat, applying pressure.

"C'mon Birdie," He choked, "You'll be fine, it's just a scratch," he lied, Wing's gaze finally catching his, and Jason watched the confused storm in his eyes drop, as the realization of what was going to happen finally hit him.

Choked sounds on bloody lips attempted to leave Wings cooling body. Jason leaned in close, hoping to make out the faint sounds.

"Ja-Jay."

Jason looked at the strange blood leaking from underneath his fingers, Wing didn't have much longer, "Yea Birdie? I'm here. It's gonna be alright, don't worry. I'm going to get you fixed up alright?" He spoke, more for himself than Wing, while letting out a choked sob. He had to stay strong for his friend. He wasn't the one dying, _not this time_. Jason was not going to let himself cry.

More gurgled sounds and a hiss of air. Jason looked away for a moment, not wanting to watch the life leave Wing's strange eyes. He knew it was coming and it wasn't fair, Jason thought in anger. He'd only look away for a moment, and that was it, This was something he couldn't watch. He hoped Wing could forgive him.

After another hitched breath, Jason glanced down at Wing, finding glossy eyes staring back at him, blaming him, at least that what he assumed. Why wouldn't he blame Jason? He took his hands from Wing's throat, blood dripping between his fingers, and cradled his limp body. Deathstroke would pay. Deathstroke would _fucking_ pay.

* * *

The basement was dark as he crept down the old wooden stairs. Tim knew he wasn't allowed to come down here by himself, his parents would kill him if they ever found out. But still, down the stairs he went, only one thing on his mind. The boy in the cage.

The cage was in the back of the room, where it had resided these last few years. Never once did his parents move that cage. It was saddening, Tim thought, how one can seclude a person for that long, never once giving them a chance to breathe.

He crept up to the cage cautiously, not wanting to spook the boy and forgo his chances of learning anything, "Hey," He started, "Do you have any nicknames?" The thirteen-year old Timothy asked, staring at the older teen locked inside the cage. Did it have a life before Talon, he wondered, did it even remember?

The caged teen tilted his head, eyes staring at Tim, observing. The dim lighting of the room allowed it to see more without hurting its eyes, Tim had learned not to long ago.

The boy stopped staring and licked his lips, "Nick-name?" He rasped, shifting his body to face more towards Tim.

Tim smiled, happy he finally got it to respond. It was something he'd been working towards for weeks, trying and failing again and again, "Yeah, did your mom or dad call you anything? My mom likes to call me Timmy or Tim," he used, trying to make it easier for the Talon to understand.

It glanced at the cage floor for a moment, pondering. Tim hoped he was finally getting through to him. The boy seemed more lively today, which was unusual. Did something happen?

"Ro-bin."

"What? Robin?" Tim asked, eyes widening, " Was that your nickname?" he said, surprised the teen was still talking, "That's a nice name. Bet it meant something special, huh?" He asked, taking a seat next to the cage and resting his head against the bars. He had some time before his parents would be back, and he was going to use all of it.

The Talon stared for a few moments, a strange expression crossing his face, before nodding his head slowly, "Fly. Like Robin, Mami said," the Talon rasped out in broken, accented English, a small light Tim hadn't seen before igniting in his face. Whatever his Father and the Court had done to him doesn't seem to have been completed yet. There was still something _human_ left in him.

"It's nice," Tim said, "Pretty." He was glad to finally learn something about the teen, "Do you think I could call you Robin?" Maybe he could finally help him. Maybe Tim could even find out his real name. He hated what the Court was doing to these people, and if he could just help _this_ one. If he could at least help one, then he knew it'd be worth it.

"You. Robin," it rasped, shaking his pointed a pale finger at Tim, eyes filling with something Tim couldn't identify.

"Me?" Tim asked, shocked, pointing to himself, he wasn't expecting this, "But that's your name. I can't be Robin as well," he added, "That's something special from your Mother. I can't take that," he tried to reason.

Talon shook his head and grabbed at the cage bars, his clawed fingers leaving scratch marks behind, "Special," he spoke softly, firmly, ignoring Tim's argument like it hadn't even been spoken.

"Robin. Baby. Bird."

* * *

A round oak table sat in the middle of a darkened dining room. The area was decorated with expensive paintings and a large baccarat crystal chandelier. The room belonged to one of the higher members of the Court. A person that bought their money from the pain and suffering of others. But as to who the person was, well, nobody knew. The Court was always one to remain anonymous.

Gathered at the round table were twenty-four people, each respectfully wearing their own white owl mask. Polished and neat, gleaming in the dim lights. They were all dressed in their best outfits, all keeping in mind the fact that the Judge would be here with them tonight. The Judge hadn't been brought to Court in ,any years. But, after all, it was time to decide what to do with the runaway Talon. Only the Judge could handle something so serious.

All Owls waited patiently for the Judge to enter, whispering harshly to one another, "It's becoming to aware. We must put it down," One woman whispered. The man across from her retaliated, "But look, It's managed to infiltrate the Justice League. We can still use it. It just needs to be reset," He hissed back. Another member further down the table added, a skittish whisper, "The Mother. We should bring out the Parents. That would solve all our problems."

Heads nodded in agreement. This would be the perfect time to test out The Parents. See if they were worth it. If they were, they could be something that could rival even _the Talon_ in skill.

The silent bickering among each other went on for a few minutes until they heard the slam of a large door. The Judge had arrived and The Court was now in session. Everyone sat up straight and allowed their eyes to follow the precise movements of the Judge as he seated himself at the head of the table. He was the Grandmaster's right hand man. One of the Court's most respected members. The Judge would always be obeyed, or else death would come swiftly.

"There are three things we must vote on tonight," The Judge's deep, raspy voice echoed. The white owl mask he wore was covered in dried blood splatters. He dealt out the punishments, always.

"The Talon, The Bat, and the Parents."

The Court hummed in agreement.

He pulled papers out of a hidden pocket in his robe, passing them out among the members, "Let us first start with the Talon," he decided, "Shall we kill it," the Judge paused, "Or use it like a puppet to destroy the League, and allow the Light to rise?"

The Owls waited a moment, glancing at one another between the slits of their masks, thinking. One male in the back spoke up bravely, "The Judge has spoken. We must decide, kill or keep. Make your arguments, and state them wisely." Everyone nodded.

In that moment, the dining room erupted into loud conversation. The sound echoed throughout the halls, and ran between the cracks in the floorboards, scaring away rodents and other small things, the shrill voices and eerie cackles too much for their ears to bear.

It had begun. It was time for the fate of Gotham to be decided.

* * *

 **Well, I'm back and with a new chapter. It's a miracle, I actually managed to find time to write this. I'm so happy.**

 **What did you think? Any favorite parts? Let me know, leave a comment. I love reading them!**

 **I'm doing alright for those that asked, and I'm grateful for the support y'all have given me during my absence.**

 **Anyway, what would you like to see next? Any predictions? Questions?**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


	13. Introductions

_Genesis 3:19 "By the sweat of your brow you will have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made."_

On the lowest floor of the Compound -located furthest from the Maze and in the darkest of hallways- resided a single steel door. This was, in fact, the only door in the entire hall, minus the one used to originally enter.

The room itself was heavily barricaded and under constant watch, by cameras or armed security, it tended to vary. Meant for unruly Talons and powerful prisoners, the room was never used often, the Court killed more than it captured. It was rare for any Talons to be kept in the room at all, but for the latter part of a decade, it has been occupied by two.

The unusual part, however, was that these two weren't Talons at all. No crazy serums nor body modifications. Just two regular humans resurrected only once. Male and female, husband and wife. Birthed one child, but parents to none. A shame really.

These two were a special case, meant to be taken out only at the most drastic of circumstances. They were called the Parents, but they used different names for each other -always in secret- and the Court didn't like to hear those. It connected them to the past, and pasts were a thing to be eradicated inside the Court. They simply weren't useful anymore.

But late one evening, a small figure ran down the long, dark hallway that led to the Parents. He was heaving for breath and hunched over himself when he arrived, barely getting his message out, but somehow he managed. It was his duty after all.

"It's time," he said, pointing to the large door with a shaking finger, "The Judge has released the Parents to collect the Talon."

* * *

 _The woman woke up thrashing, frantically reaching for something, whilst her breath came out in short, ragged gasps. Her panic -increasing ever so slowly as the world around her was enveloped in darkness- made her start shaking, similar to a leaf. She couldn't see, not even her hand as she brought it close to her face. Struggling to her feet, but collapsing with every try, the woman swept her hands across the damp stone beneath her, trying to regain some sense of safety. Stability. But none of that would ever be found here._

 _It was cold, she noted, gathering herself onto her hands and knees. She needed to calm down, find out what was going on. Escape. She needed to think. He father trained her better than this._

 _She continued crawling around the floor, hands splayed out in front of her, until one smacked into something warm. Gasping, she tentatively felt around, discovering the object to be another human. A male, she figured, the strong jaw being the main indicator._

 _It hit her suddenly, like a truck, as the male woke, groaning in pain. She remembered what happened. But how? How was she alive? How was he? They died. There was no getting around death like that. Nothing could've prevented their fall. But her son! Oh, where was her son!? Had he survived with them, or did he even fall at all? He was so little, her poor baby. She'd left him all alone. He couldn't have fallen, there was no way. Not her little Robin._

 _She moved towards the male as he started to mumble, his panic starting to settle just as hers had. She shushed him, remaining close while mumbling soft words. A door creaked open nearby, and a bright light blinded the pair._

 _"Ah, it's good to see you both are finally awake," A shadowed figure spoke, the light making it impossible to see any distinctive features. "Tell me, does anything feel broken? Fractured?" He asked, a slight accent hardening his words, followed by twisted curiosity. He sounded as though he was struggling to hold back a laugh._

 _"It is imperative that we know before we freeze you. It wouldn't do well for me if you aren't useful when the time comes," he added, coming further into the room, but keeping a position in which his face remained in the shadows._

 _The man and woman both shook their heads, confused as to what was exactly going on. Who was this man? All they wanted to do was escape. Maybe if they went along with him, an opportunity would present itself._

 _"Good," The man replied cheerfully, in a creepy, almost manic way, "Now that introductions are out of the way, let us go to your new 'chambers'," he hesitated on the word, still unsure of what the Grandmaster wanted them to be called._

 _"Follow me," he grinned widely. This would be quite interesting._

* * *

Floating. Twirling, twisting, tumbling, was the object, like a feather caught in a slight breeze. Peaceful and calm, a mother's touch embraced it. This object, curling in this makeshift wind, a spirit. A soul finally laid to rest, dancing in joy, something that it had forgotten long ago.

But something was wrong, the air changed harshly, and began to bite and nip at the soul. Tearing it to small, jagged pieces. But why? What had it done wrong?

Foggy and cold, the air turned dark. Something was cold. So very cold, and yet, the spirit continued, -determined- fumbling through the flaming hoops that showed to test it. And the burning, suddenly, it was all burning. The breeze, the fog, the feather. Everything was on fire. Searing the spirit and dropping it from the winds careful grasp.

It was falling, fast and steady. There was no getting around it this time, no wind to come to save it. The spirit trembled, watching as the ground approached much too quickly.

It hit the ground, hard. And it hurt, oh did it hurt. The spirit screamed in agony, but no sound came out, never had a sound come out before. It curled into itself, the spirit, consumed by the flames that had followed in its speedy descent.

Why was the spirit always falling?

Quickly as the air had changed, he woke, eyes flying in every direction as breath caught in his throat. It had happened again. It always did.

Dick heaved, the burning sensation just now starting to fade. This was his least favorite part of being a Talon. The resurrection.

Taking controlled breaths, Dick took in his surroundings, noticing that he was laid out onto a bed with a thin white sheet covering his body. His shirt was gone, and the blood that should cover his body had gone with it. Dick sat up and swung his feet over the edge. Where had Jason gone? Where was Deathstroke?

He sprung to his feet suddenly and stood, wobbling a little for a moment. Where was Jason! Dick panicked and began tearing through the room, looking under the bed and in the closet. Finding nothing there, he rushed to the bathroom. Maybe Jason was in there?

Empty.

Dick's chest tightened and his throat closed up. Where was Jason?

He left the bedroom and soon entered the other rooms in the safe house. Just like the first, they were all empty. No sign of anyone. All the gear and clothes that had been there before were gone. It was empty. Jason wasn't here, so he must've left with Deathstroke. That was the only feasible conclusion. Jason left Dick.

No, Dick shook his head, a sudden sadness washing over him as his face fell, Jason had left Talon. He stood silently in the kitchen, staring at everything, yet nothing at all. It was obvious, now that Jay knew the truth, why would he want to stay with such a monster? Talon never should have kept it a secret. Secrets were bad. Secrets got people you cared about killed.

Dick dragged himself -slowly- back to the bedroom, not sure what to do next. He was alone again, naturally. Just like last time. He always ended up alone. It wasn't fair.

It was then -as he moped- that he noticed, resting casually on the nightstand, was his Talon costume in all its glory. Dick stared at it for a moment, contemplating. He knew what he needed to do. He finally had his next mission. After all, a Talon never broke its promise.

He _would_ find Jason _and_ Deathstroke, whether they wanted him to or not.

* * *

The Mountain was a mess. It had been a few days since Nightwing and Red Hood escaped and trying to fix all the damage had turned into a grueling process. Everyone was to busy trying to find the pair, that anything having to do with the word 'repair' had been set on the backburner.

Robin sighed and watched the same video feed play out for the hundredth time. He'd already been sitting here for three hours, watching the video of Nightwing and Red Hood fight everyone. Why Batman couldn't do this himself, he didn't know. Tim always got stuck with the lame jobs anyway.

Deciding to spice up his life a bit -and possibly get some good jokes- Tim turned on the security cameras Batman hooked up to the Lights main hideout. At least the one they knew about. Maybe something useful would happen that he could tell Batman about. Anything would be better than his current task.

Nothing happened. Not a single damn person showed up. Guess bad guys don't meet on Mondays. Tim groaned, he was so bored. Why did the Team get to go out on a patrol while he was stuck sitting here? He slouched further into his chair -nearly falling off- and reached to turn off the feed.

Before he could, a black and gold figure shot across his cameras, forcing Tim to do a double take as he shot up straight in his chair.

He knew that costume.

But the person that wore it was dead.

This was bad. He zoomed in and replayed that bit of footage, watching the figure float across in slow motion. Tim paused it when the figures whole body was in the frame.

He inhaled sharply. There was no mistaking it. The figure looked more ragged and the costume held fewer ornaments, but there was no mistaking it. He was back. Talon was alive.

Robin needed to tell Batman. No matter how much he wanted to keep it a secret, it was time. If Talon was back, then something bad was going to happen. Someone was going to die.

* * *

They were sent to a meeting with the Light, only there to observe and collect data. They were not to be discovered, else their son would suffer, and they would never risk their son.

Husband and wife, frozen in time, hid away in the vents above the conference room, watching the members as they slowly began to trickle in.

Do this, the Court said, find our wayward Talon, bring it back, and we shall take you to see your son. _Quid Pro Quo_

They would find this Talon.

The meeting started not too long after the last seat had been filled. A few members were still missing they noticed, but the Light didn't seem to care. They began anyway.

Lex Luthor stood first, growling in anger, "Where is Deathstroke? The man called this meeting, why isn't he here?" He motioned around the room with his arms.

Klarion chuckled, petting Teekl softly, but provided no input, confusing the others.

"Deathstroke can wait," Vandal Savage pointed out, "We can use this sudden meeting to discuss more important matters at hand," He ended, keeping his voice even and calm. He couldn't stand half the people at this table.

It was silent for a few moments, everyone eying each other carefully. Something was off about this whole meeting, they could sense it.

Luthor, tired of the silence, asked again, "Well, I understand the need for updates, but why is the _assassin_ here?" He grumbled, pointing towards Ra's al Ghul.

Ra's grunted, offended at the term 'assassin'. He was the Demon's Head, not a mere _assassin,_ "It just so happens, _Luthor,_ that I have some information regarding a certain something that your little group may find useful," he moved to leave, "But, it seems as though my information is not wanted here after all."

"Ra's, sit," Savage stated quickly, halting the older man, "You may share what you know."

"Very well." Ra's sat back down.

The door creaked, halting Ra's before he'd even opened his mouth. The members looked towards the door, expecting Deathstroke to come crawling in, last minute, like usual.

Klarion began to laugh, full-blown and obnoxious, "I knew it! I knew they'd finally send us one! Teekl look!"

A man walked in, adorned in a sleek, black bodysuit, covered head to toe in different forms of weaponry. He moved gracefully, not making a sound as his boots landed on the tile. Stopping at the head of the table, he bowed deeply, ornaments tinkling quietly, and stood, waiting to address the members at the table.

Ra's stiffened, knowing what stood before them. But why was it here? The Court didn't deal in things like this. They never had before.

Luthor crossed his arms, "And who might you be?" He asked, reverting back into full business mode, ready to single his guards at the slightest provocation.

The man didn't reply, instead, he walked, ever quiet towards Savage, producing a white envelope hidden somewhere in his suit, and placed it in front of the man.

The envelope was simple, no writing was on the front, but it was sealed in red wax, with the crest of an owl hiding in the middle.

Savage made no moves to touch it, knowing that something deadly could have been placed on the white paper. The owl was different though, he hadn't expected that. That being said, it still took quite a lot to surprise him nowadays.

"Open it," Savage commanded to the man, gesturing with his head, "Read it."

The man, -boy- Savage noted as he looked at him more closely, picked the envelope back up, opened it with a sharpened claw, and pulled out a black piece of paper, covered in white writing. Along with the paper, a long, milky colored feather floated to the floor.

"I knew it," Ra's hissed, standing up, "You're going to have to read it for yourself, Savage," Ra's spoke angrily, "His kind are not permitted to speak for themselves."

The boy placed the paper down in front of Savage after glancing at Ra's. Nervous perhaps? He then moved back, stopping only when his back was a few inches from the wall. He observed the room as the letter was read.

Savage stood and started reading the paper, skimming it briefly for a moment, " _Members of the Light,"_ He began, " _We send to you our greatest weapon, the Talon,"_ Savage stopped and everyone looked towards the boy in the corner, " _There are no other tools like it. Strike it down, and it shall rise. Cast it away, and it shall return. It shall obey,_ " Savage paused, casting a glance at the faces of those around him. All contained a thoughtful look.

 _"We give this to you because we want to join your little crusade. It has been brought to our attention, as your group continues to grow, that it would be in our best efforts to join. So, as a sign of good faith, we send to you our Talon, to command and help further your goals as you see fit. Signed,_ " Savage took a breath, _"The Court of Owls."_

Up in the vents, the forgotten pair couldn't believe their luck. The wayward Talon was right in front of them! They knew that the letter was a fake. The Court would never join this disaster of a group. In fact, they sought to eradicate them.

The woman motioned with her hand towards her husband. The signal to leave.

The pair made their way out of the building, leaving just as they had entered. Silent. Finally, when they made it outside, they spoke freely.

"John, did you see him! That's our target! He's so close," She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls her feet, the excitement in her voice hard to hide.

John placed his hands on her shoulders, doing he best to stop her bouncing, "I know Mary," He assured, trying to hide his own, very similar, joy, "We'll get him, and then, we'll get our boy," he smiled, bright and wide, almost identical to his son's.

Mary's smile fell at the mention of their child. She dropped her head, "Do you think he'll hate us?" She asked, suddenly self-conscious, "He should be around seventeen now, right? I wonder who little Dickie looks like more?" Mary joked half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood again, "The great John Grayson, or his beautiful mother Mary?" She laughed, twirling around in a circle.

John laughed and pulled his wife into an embrace, their excitement over meeting their son again overwhelming. Finally together, they tried not to think about how he'd react. They'd been 'dead' for the same amount of time he'd been parentless. Just how would Dick take it?

* * *

Well **, here's another chapter. What do you think?**

 **Any favorite parts? Characters? Lines or scenes? Let me know!**

Anybody **want to guess what's going to happen next?**

 **Anyway, that's all for now.**

 **Til next time,**

 **Rachel**


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